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hyuckssunchip · 4 years ago

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Hasty Encounters, Hasty Decisions

Pairings: Yuta x Reader, ft. nct 127

Words: 10K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), drinking, slight smut, insinuation of sex

Summary:

Y/N and Yuta meet for the first time and learn quickly of not only their attractions, but also their many more differences. Painful words and revelations leave a deep ridge between the two of them, that is until someone makes a shocking confession. Will they continue to make hasty decisions, or will they learn to forgive and forget?

Yuna was the exact opposite of you. She was gorgeous, outgoing and such a party person. You’d rather chill at home and binge your favorite drama for the billionth time, and that’s exactly how you planned to spend this weekend, however, Yuna had different plans.

“Come on, this is the last one of the semester! The NCT frat house always has legendary end of the semester parties. Besides you haven’t been to one yet, you need to broaden your horizons.” She kept jabbing your side, as if that was a good tactic to make you agree to her idea.

“No, I already set up my computer for six straight episodes of Penthouse, it’s too late now.” You gave her a triumphant grin, as if that were enough to get Yuna off your case.

“Are you serious right now?” She rolled her eyes at you, “This is ridiculous, I get that the actors are hot and all, but these are the hot guys in real life! Stop pining over some made up character and get it on with a real guy!”

“Who’s getting it on with a real guy?”

“Mark, Yuna keeps trying to take away my drama time, she’s trying to force me to go to a frat party.” You whined to him. Surely he would take your side, he’s a homebody just like yourself.

“The NCT frat party? I heard those are awesome. Why don’t you want to go?”

Sike.

“Ugh, I can’t believe you Mark, you’re supposed to take my side unconditionally.”

“Right… Yuna why do you want her to go so badly?”

“Mark, don’t you want to go to the party? They’re even better than what people say.”

“Really?”

“Mark!” You tugged at his shirt.

“What? I’ve always wanted to go. You know you should really get out there more. I think Yuna’s right on this one.”

“See?” Yuna gave you a smug look.

“Mark, you’re not helping.”

He swung his arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer, “Maybe you should go to this one, I think it’ll be fun.”

“You’re only saying that cause you want to go.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at you before you shrugged his arm off your shoulder.

“No. I already told you, I’ve got a busy weekend up ahead.”

“Yeah of bingeing dramas.” Yuna put her hands on her hips in protest.

Mark tilts his head at you, “How about this? If you go this weekend, I promise that I will help you set up that editing software on your computer that you’ve been wanting.”

“Deal.” There was no hesitation. You’ve been dying for him to help you for months but he never got around to it.

“Damn, that was easy.” Yuna grinned, “I’ve got tons of stuff you can borrow for tomorrow night!”

“What’s wrong with my stuff?” You frowned.

“Umm… have you seen your closet?” There was a snicker from beside you, but it was quickly cut off when you elbowed him in the side.

“I agree with Yuna on this one too.” Mark said, rubbing his side where you had just jabbed him. “Your clothes just aren’t suitable for a frat party.”

“And how would you know?” You mocked him, knowing he’d never been to one before.

“I’ve seen many movies, thank you very much.”

“Not the same Mark, but regardless you both are coming with me.” Yuna spoke up, “My class is gonna start in fifteen and it’s across campus so I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later. Don’t think you can ditch this one!”

She ran off in the other direction before there was room for response.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Mark chuckled, throwing his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, ever since she and Johnny broke up, it’s like she’s going there to make sure he sees that she’s doing fine. To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Everyone goes through different ways of mourning y’know? That’s just Yuna.” He shrugged, kicking the stone in front of him.

You dropped it, feeling the mellow mood.

“Well, I should head to class then, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” You nodded in response and with that he left.

“Sure.” Your eyes followed his back as he continued kicking stones out of his way.

Beep Beep!

“Are you sure this isn’t too short? I’m pretty sure you can see all of my ass.”

“Y/N, that’s the point.” You shot her a look. “Besides you’ll be so drunk you’ll feel fantastic either way. You look hot.” She flashed you a smile and grabbed your arm.

“Now come on! Mark’s waiting.”

You groaned, dragging your feet in resistance. The couch looked so comfy right now.

Beep Beep!

“Yeah we get it Mark!” Yuna yelled, “Come on.”

You were pushed into the passenger seat and she slammed the door on you, sliding into the back right after.

Yuna leaned forward resting her arms on the both of the seats in front of her. “Ready?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. You glanced at Mark, who was staring at the rear view mirror. You smiled at his face.

“Wow.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and glancing at you. “You look great. You guys look great.”

You sent him a small smile, but went back to looking out the window.

“Of course we do, we spent hours on this.” Yuna scoffed.

“Right.” With one last glance in the mirror at Yuna, he started the car and headed to the address.

“How long are we staying?” You asked, starting to get nervous.

“How ever long we want to. You know you could even stay the night.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you, but in vain.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Right. Just make sure you text me to let me know if you’re going home with someone.” She laughed, “That goes for all of us, I don’t want to be stranded without a ride home Mark.”

Mark blushed and shook his head, not really replying.

There was a comfortable silence throughout the ride and you hadn’t noticed that you had already arrived until the echoing sound of music hit your ears.

“Alright! Are we ready!?” Suddenly you had a headache, and Yuna was not helping.

You were unceremoniously dragged out of the car while Mark, slowly clambored out of his side.

“Let’s go already.”

“You know I can walk on my own right?”

“I know, but you’re a flight risk.” She gripped my arm tighter and pulled you to the front of the frat, skipping the large line that seemed to wrap around the street.

“Yuna! Pleasure to see you again!” And with that you were let in.

It felt as though you were entering a whole new world when you walked through that door. You saw many familiar faces, and many unfamiliar.

“How about we start off with drinks?” She hooked her arms into both yours and Mark’s and dragged you to the makeshift bar. You held eye contact with Mark before letting out a sheepish grin.

If there’s gonna be lots of alcohol involved, how bad could it be?

“Yuna! I’ve got special mixes for you, unless you’re here for the hard stuff. But you know how good my cocktails are. So what are we starting off with?” The man with silver brown hair at the table shouted over the music.

“Taeil!” Yuna smiled, giving him a small hug, leaving you and Mark feeling empty and vulnerable. “I’ll take you up on your mix, I know how many shots you can get into a cocktail. These are my friends, Y/N and Mark. Can you show them a bit of your magic?”

There was a friendly laugh as the man, Taeil, shot you both a smile. “Of course! Is this your first time here?” He asked whilst pouring his concoction.

You nodded silently, looking at Yuna for help, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

“Thought so, I would definitely remember someone like you.” He gave you a wink, handing the first one to you.

You immediately sipped it, not knowing how to answer his comment, evident in your blushing face.

“Oh my god. This is amazing.” You looked up at him, actually confused at how you couldn’t taste the alcohol, seeing as you saw just how much he poured into that drink.

“That’s Taeil for you, he knows how to get everyone the most fucked up.” She grinned at him, taking both drinks from him and handing one to Mark, keeping the other for herself.

He grinned, “Of course, come back when you’re done, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of me.” She sang back while dragging the two of you off again. She pulled you to a crowd of yelling people, and as curious as you were, you’d much rather sit on the couch and sip your drink.

“Okay but actually what’s in this?” Mark asked, he sounded as amazed as you felt and you laughed at his expression.

“I don’t know, but it’s amazing right?” You took another sip, turning your attention to the loud cheers from the people around you.

Some unfortunate frat boy was doing a keg stand, held up by Johnny. “Jungwoo! Man, you good? That was a shit ton this time.”

The boy with fluffy brown haired grinned toothily, “I don’t know man, I’m feeling pretty good right now.”

“Alright, you go have fun then.” Johnny laughed, shoving the keg under a table. “Beer pong anyone?”

You rolled your eyes. Johnny and Yuna had dated for a short time earlier this year, but you never really liked Johnny. I mean in general he was a fun guy, everyone liked him, it was hard for you not to. But as a boyfriend? With Yuna? Nope. You saw what she went through and that wasn’t healthy. It’s not like you hated him, in fact you and Johnny had plenty of fun conversations, but he was too out there for you.

You sighed, turning away from the commotion of guys trying to earn the chance to play against Johnny.

“Hey where are you going?” Yuna asked, still staring at the table. You pointed to your now empty drink, “I’m gonna get more!” You yelled back.

She loosened her grip nodding, but you were sure she stopped listening.

“You want me to go with you?” Mark asked, but you could tell he wanted to stay with Yuna and watch.

“No I’m fine. I’ll be back soon, I’ll probably get a drink and then some fresh air. I promise.” He nodded, frowning at you. At least he cared enough to look worried.

You headed back to the familiar table, “Back so soon?”

“Yeah, I don’t even remember drinking all of it.” You laughed, “That probably means it’s working right?”

He chuckled, “It works wonders. So what do you want this time? Something strong or sweet or just something that’ll knock you out?”

You giggled at the offer, “You know, as tempting as that last one is, I think I’ll just go with sweet. Make it so I can’t taste it.”

“Right, coming right up.”

There was another obnoxious cheer. “Yuta! Yuta! Yuta!”

“What are they up to? Beer pong?” He asked, back facing the crowd.

“Yeah.”

“Go figures, that’s the only game Yuta slaughters Johnny in.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey can I get something?” The keg boy from earlier stumbled up to you, obviously having trouble standing still.

“Jungwoo, man what’s up?” Taeil chuckled, handing you your drink as he faced the boy.

“I feel great.” The grin was so endearing that you felt the need to smile with him.

“I’m sure you do buddy. You wanted a drink right?” Taeil reached down for a bottle of Vodka from under the table. You frowned, looking at the half full bottle still on the counter.

“Yeah,” The boy giggled, turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Jungwoo. You’re kinda hot.”

You blushed, sipping your drink. You shouldn’t have been affected, this boy was drunk out of his mind, he probably thought that anything with two legs was hot.

“Here you go buddy. I made this one good, you probably can’t even taste it.” Taeil walked around the table to hand it to Jungwoo, standing next to you.

Jungwoo sipped it, nodding his head contently.

Taeil bent down and whispered in your ear, “ Don’t worry, it’s just pineapple juice mixed with water. He won’t even tell the difference.” He pulled back giving you a grin.

“Hey Jungwoo, why don’t you take this pretty lady outside for some fresh air, I think she could use it.” He winked at you and pointed his head in direction of the empty backyard.

“Of course I will.” He grinned, sticking his elbow out for you to grab, to which you complied and sent Taeil a little smile on your way out.

You sat on the stairs of the deck, Jungwoo landing next to you. He was having a little more difficulty trying to sit down without falling over.

“So what’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You answered softly, taking another sip. It looked like this one was going to be finished just as fast as the last. You shook your head worried about future you.

“Huh. Cute.” He took a long sip of his.

Again you blushed. You really needed to stop doing that every time some guy talks to you.

“You know you’re kinda cute to be hanging out here.” He commented mindlessly, chewing on a block of ice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like you’re hot, but you seem like you’re too sweet y’know, to be hanging out at a frat house.”

You giggled, “It’s not like I wanted to come here. But you know I’m not having a bad time.”

Another sip.

“Yeah? That’s good. You a student here?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m a Sophomore, what are you?” He was a bit blunt, but you didn’t mind, the alcohol was kicking in and you were beginning to think everything was funny. Honestly, sober you would’ve probably thought this whole situation was funny too.

“I’m a Junior.”

“Oh.”

He paused, thinking.

“You know I’m into older women.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. And he grinned at you, leaning back on his elbows, his drink long gone.

“Well that’s a shame, cause I’m into older men.” He pouted at you.

“People actually think I’m a lot older than I am.”

“I’m sure they do Jungwoo.”

He grinned at you.

“Hey, I kinda like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth.”

Again, you couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from erupting.

“Jungwoo, you’re a total flirt.” You had your hand covering your mouth as you tried to stop the giggles, swaying towards him.

He let out a little giggle. You lost your balance and fell towards him, leaning against his shoulder. Jungwoo could hardly manage to keep himself up let alone both your weights. The two of you tumbled flat on the deck, in giggling fits.

You sighed, finally calming yourself as you rolled over staring at the black sky, not a single star in sight.

You turned your head sharply and faced Jungwoo, his nose only and inch away from yours. You could tell he wasn’t paying much attention to you as he eyes were trained on your lips.

“You wanna dance?”

“Huh?”

“I wanna dance. Are you coming?” You attempted to push yourself up, struggling for a good minute.

Jungwoo followed, “Yeah, only if you help me get up, I think I might be a little drunk.” He laughed to himself.

“A little?” You had no right to tease him.

Pulling each other up, you guys somehow managed to make it back inside. As you stumbled inside together Mark happened to find you, holding on to your waist to stabilize you.

“Dude where were you? I’ve been looking all over for you.” You giggled, hanging on to both Mark and Jungwoo. He sniffed, smelling the alcohol on you.

“How much did you drink? You smell like a sketchy gas station.” His nose crinkled.

Jungwoo stumbled, pulling you and consequently Mark with him.

“Woah man, maybe you should sit down.” Mark reached his arm out to grab Jungwoo.

“But I’m gonna dance with Y/N.” He whined, but nevertheless letting Mark lead him to the couch.

“Next time yeah?”

Jungwoo nodded, gladly sinking into the cushion.

“Y/N how about you? You good?” Mark asked, leaning down to your eye level. You leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes for a bit.

“Mmmmm.”

“Mmmmm? What’s that mean? You need something?” You shook your head, opting to wrap your arms around his waist.

The two of you swayed there for a bit, until you started to feel dizzy. “Water?”

“Huh?” His head was resting on top of yours. “You want water?” He pulled away, once again looking you in the eyes.

He nodded slowly at you, “Okay, I’ll get you water, you just stay right here okay?”

You leaned against the couch and smiled at him nodding in response.

He was only gone for a moment when you felt a presence invading your space. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You opened your eyes.

Woah.

He smiled at you, liking your reaction, “Woah?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Your hand reached for the lock of blonde hair nearest to you. He chuckled, grabbing your hand, “I’m gonna go with no then.”

You looked up at him, wide eyed earning you a grin. “Wanna dance?”

There was nothing left to do but nod.

He grabbed your head, softly pulling you towards the space everyone was dancing on. From the corner of your eye, you could’ve sworn you saw Yuna making out with that guy from your Calculus class but you shook it off, there were more important things in front of you.

You were tugged against his chest, and the heat coming off his chest making you feel dizzy. After a few moments he turned you around, placing his hand under your chin, leaning your head back in the crevice of his neck. You closed your eyes. His hands once softly gripping your waist dug into your hips, dragging you closer if that was possible. As your bodies grinded against each other, you felt his lips make contact with your exposed neck. You gasped, stretching your neck more in order to give him as much access as you could. Already you could feel the spots where hickies would be impossible to hide the next day, but you didn’t care.

Soon the kisses and licks turned into love bites and the grip on your waist grew firmer. It was becoming much easier to feel the growing eagerness of your partner. You rotated your hips, pushing back into him and he threw his head back groaning.

“Fuck, how about we take this upstairs?” He moaned into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your stomach clench.

Somehow you made it upstairs, stumbling through frenzied kisses and already swollen lips. He pushed your backwards through a wooden door frame and immediately turned you around as he slammed the door shut. He trapped you against the cool wood panel before attacking your neck once more, you let out a gasp, running his hands over his chest. His lips didn’t stop attacking until he found your sweet spot, you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair pulling slightly. He moaned into your neck before swearing and pushing you towards the bed.

Before you had even made it there he managed to rid you of your dress.

“Fuck, you know that shit really wasn’t leaving much for the imagination.” He quickly pulled his top off and pushed you down, crawling you top of you to leave a trail of kisses down your body.

“God, you’re fucking hot.” He groaned as his lips traced the black lace of your bra that Yuna forced you into.

You sunk further into the bed, his body crashing into yours, unbelievably close, as his fingers left blazing hot trails on your body.

You were wrapped around each other in the morning as you woke up. Your eyes opened slowly meeting the already awake eyes of the man next to you. For a moment you stared at each other in silence, relishing the peaceful moments before your hangover would kick in.

There was a loud clang from downstairs, causing you to flinch. The moment was over.

He pulled away from you harshly turning to throw on sweats and a shirt before moving past you to the bathroom. You wrapped yourself in the sheets sitting up and watched his back.

He hesitated for a moment before turning back to face you, “Don’t you know to leave before I wake up?” He gave you a one over while shaking his head at you. “It was just a fuck.”

You sat in silence, only jumping at the sound of the bathroom door slamming. Suddenly you felt sick. You scrambled out of bed to find the pieces of last night’s outfit scattered around the floor.

As soon as you were dressed and you cleaned yourself up as much as you could in the mirror, you ran towards the stairs. The smell of bacon wafted past you, making you wish you didn’t feel the nausea that was slowly rising.

“Y/N?” Taeil turned to see you rush past the kitchen. You stopped, backtracking to the doorway and gave him a tentative smile.

He looked at his watch and frowned, “You’re still here?”

“She was with Yuta.” A boy with black curly hair and a grey hoodie said, munching on his apple. He spun in his chair before stopping in your direction.

Yuta? Well shit, you didn’t even know his name until now.

“I’m surprised you’re still here. Yuta usually makes sure his girls leave before he wakes up. Honestly, most of them don’t even get to spend the night, he just kicks them out after his little escapade. I’m Doyoung by the way.” He flashed a little smile and tilted his head at you.

“Oh.” You blushed looking down at your feet. “I was just on my way out.”

He nodded, getting what you meant.

“Oh? Y/N?” You turned to find a familiar face.

“Jungwoo?” He smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry about last night. I don’t really remember much except us falling over each other. I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable did I?”

You blushed in response. “No, trust me I think it was mutual last night.” You laughed nervously, rubbing your arms, suddenly immensely aware of your less than modest outfit.

“Here!” Jungwoo stripped off his blue hoodie, leaving him in a plain white tee. He stuck his hand out, offering you the jacket, which you took gratefully. Even though you weren’t planning on staying long, it was freezing outside and you’d have to wait for a ride to come get you.

Mark! You totally forgot to tell him, you mentally slapped your forehead, knowing that he wasn’t going to let this go too easily.

The sweatshirt hung just above the length of your dress, not doing much for modesty down there, but it still felt more comfortable than before.

There was a slam and a girl came running down the stairs and towards the door, she gave you a knowing glance before exiting the building.

You sighed, you should probably get going now, Mark was going to throw a fit but you knew he'd show up anyways.

A hand came down on your shoulder, the man behind it chuckling as he watched the scene.

“You staying for breakfast Y/N?” He moved around you, grabbing a plate from Taeil and sitting down.

“Jaehyun.” You froze. You and Jaehyun were kind of friends. You had met through Yuna and Johnny. Actually you got along really well with him, you just lost contact after Johnny and Yuna broke up.

He flashed you a dimpled smile.

“No, I should get going.”

He nodded, already digging in, “You have a ride back?”

You paused. He noticed, looking up at you.

“Give me five minutes, let me just finish this and I’ll drop you off. Okay?”

You nodded and gave him a smile. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt right? Besides then you wouldn’t have to bug Mark so early.

It was 11 am, but he was probably still knocked out. A ride with Jaehyun wouldn’t kill you. He patted the seat next to you and you took up his offer.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Jungwoo set his plate down opposite of you.

You shook your head, “I don’t think I could keep it down.”

“Right.” He paused, looking at his own food with hesitation before shrugging and taking a bite.

Doyoung laughed, sinking into the seat next to the boy, “He’ll probably throw it up, but then he’ll say he made more room and eat again.”

Jungwoo shoved him whilst mid-bite before focusing on the task before him.

You looked at him, “How about you?” Referencing the lone apple in his hand.

“Oh I don’t drink enough to get sick in the mornings, I’m just less of a bacon dude, more of an apple guy.” He grinned, taking a bite.

“Johnny?” Taeil asked.

Jaehyun leaned back in his chair, grabbing the coffee Taeil just sat down.

“Sleeping, you know how he is the day after.”

Taeil nodded, “Yeah, I figured, but I thought he’d smell the bacon and be the first one down.” He laughed to himself grabbing another cup of coffee and raised it in your direction.

You shook your head smiling. Jaehyun threw his arm around the back of your chair and you looked at him. He was sipping the coffee and frowning ahead of him.

“What are you still doing here? Did I not make it clear that you should leave?” Your eyes widened at the sound of the voice you heard this morning.

“Yuta!” Taeil scolded, still setting down a plate for him. He shrugged in response taking the seat at the head of the table, farthest from you.

Jungwoo looked up intensely chewing and just as intensely glancing between the two of you.

You shrunk down in your seat, avoiding eye contact with him. Jaehyun glanced at you and set down his mug.

“You ready?” He asked, standing up with a stretch. You immediately followed his lead.

“Yeah.”

“Let me grab my keys real quick. You haven’t moved right?”

You nodded, watching Jaehyun jog up the stairs for a moment.

Taeil came and stood next to you, cup in hand, “You guys close?”

You shrugged, turning back to face him. “We used to be.”

He nodded silently, watching Jaehyun reappear.

“Got everything?” He asked, opening the door as you started towards the exit. You nodded and turned back to the kitchen one last time, sending a wave and a smile.

You didn’t miss Yuta’s scowl.

“Don’t mind Yuta, he’s just usually cranky the night after.” Jaehyun reassured you, but it didn’t do much good.

You looked out the window and nodded silently.

“Did you atleast enjoy last night?” He asked, attempting at rekindling the conversation.

“Yeah, I think I did. Honestly a lot of it was a blur.” You let out a strained laugh.

He joined you, “That’s what makes it so fun.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

There was a comfortable silence. The car jolted to a stop.

“This is you right?”

You had zoned out and missed half the ride back.

“Oh! Yeah, thanks for the ride. Mark would’ve killed me if I asked him to pick me up.”

He nodded, “No problem. I didn’t mind at all. We should hang out again, I’ve missed you.”

You grinned, “Same, we’ll definitely hang out, just let me know when and where.”

“Will do.”

You shivered as you stepped out of the car and slammed the door. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself and gave a short wave as he left before making your way to your door.

You let yourself in quietly, taking off your heels and turning around only to let out a startled scream.

“Yuna?! What the hell are you doing?! You scared the shit out of me!”

Yuna was sitting on the couch staring at the front door, looking as if she had been waiting all night.

“Well? How was last night? I’m assuming things went well because here you are waltzing in at 11:30 in the morning.” She was taunting you.

You groaned, “At least let me shower first.”

She squealed, clapping her hands whilst bouncing on the couch.

You paused, “Last night… Mark…”

Her face scrunched up, “Yeah, he’s kind of pissed. We both forgot to tell him… but we’ll make it up to him. I was thinking we’d bring him lunch.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Wait?! Both forgot? Did you hook up with someone again?!”

She continued shaking her head with a bright smile and shoved you towards the bathroom. “Clean up first!”

She laughed at your protest but you eventually gave in.

“Maaarrrk. Come on, we said we’re sorry. I mean honestly we were both drunk out of our minds, how could we have even texted you?” Yuna pouted at him, something she always did to get her way with him.

He looked away, staring at the cupcakes you had brought as a peace offering.

“If it makes you feel any better I made a complete fool out of myself this morning.” You said, still twiddling your thumbs.

He cocked his head slightly, an indication that you had his attention.

“The guy I slept with totally threw me out.”

He frowned, looking at you, “Why on earth would that make me feel any better?”

You shrugged avoiding eye contact.

“Who was it?”

“What? Are you gonna beat him up?” Yuna asked, laughing as she stole a cupcake.

“Maybe.” He turned his attention to you, “So who?”

“Yuta.”

“Yuta? As NCT frat boy Yuta? Why would you sleep with him?” He asked, his voice increasing a decibel.

“Umm.. Have you seen him? He’s hot as hell.” Yuna said, licking the frosting off her fingers before giving him a look. “I’m glad she did. It’s about time she got some action.”

“How can you be glad she slept with him? He’s a total asshole! Plus he kicked her out this morning!” He asked, reaching for the coveted cupcake. She slapped his hand away, taking a bite.

“Okay, but everyone knows when you sleep with someone at a party, you don’t stay the night, or you at least don’t stay long enough for breakfast in the morning. No offense.” The last part directed at you, but you just continued to stare at the floor.

“Well, wouldn’t you know?” Mark spat out, for once losing his temper.

Yuna paused and gave him a look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, just because you go sleeping around and know the ‘etiquette’ or whatever, doesn’t mean that someone like Y/N would know.” He turned around blocking himself off from her gaze.

“Whatever. I don’t need this.” She stood up grabbing her bag. “We came to apologize, I didn’t come to be attacked. You know I’m sorry I ditched you last night but I don’t need to be called a whore cause you’re still pissy about the whole thing.”

She slammed the door on the way out, glaring at nothing in particular.

Well. There goes your ride.

Mark sighed, slouching into the cushion of his couch.

“I didn’t call her a whore. At least I didn’t mean to. It’s just she was totally attacking you, and you did nothing wrong. Except maybe sleep with a dickwad.” He groaned, rubbing his hands on his face. “I would never kick you out like that.”

“I know.” You replied, leaning into his side. “I don’t think she’s actually that mad, she’s just struggling right now. You know how she’s been since they broke up.”

“I just think she’s so desensitized, that she doesn’t even know how to be treated right.”

“I know.” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you sat in silence for a while.

They weren’t his frat brothers but you were sure he told them all about you and your mistake, judging by the way they were laughing at you.

“Screw them.” Yuna said, glaring at the group. “It’s not even that big of a deal, he should be honored he slept with you.”

You kept your head down, mentally cursing yourself for ever letting him get to you.

The semester had already ended and you had almost forgotten about the frat house and the embarrassment that followed, that is until Yuta and his friends sat themselves behind you in lecture today.

Yuna made a face at you, an attempt to brighten you up. A whole semester with them behind you? This was an actual nightmare.

“Where is Mark?” Yuna muttered checking her phone. “Look I’ve got to go or I’ll be late to my class but you’ll have Mark so don’t let them get to you alright?”

You nodded, playing with the strings of your sweatshirt. With one last glare Yuna exited the back of the lecture hall.

You felt a presence next you and you stiffened.

“This’ll be fun, don’t you think?” You groaned, of course he would have the nerve to sit next to you only as soon as Yuna leaves.

You chose to ignore him.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smirking, “Luck really was on my side-”

“That’s my seat.”

Both you and Yuta looked up and you sighed in relief seeing that it was Mark, “I don’t see a name on it.” Yuta cocked his head, the smirk still plastered over his face.

Mark just stared at him, not moving.

Eventually Yuta sighed, standing up and staring down at Mark, the height difference only enhancing the mood he was going for. “It’s a shame you’re no fun.” He moved to the seat behind yours and rested his feet on the back of your chair.

You grimaced as you felt the pressure, and rolled your eyes in annoyance. Mark sat down, turning to you.

“You good?” He asked, leaning in close to you.

Again, you nodded silently.

This was going to be a long semester.

“Are you still coming over to my place tonight?” Mark asked, packing his notebook in his bag.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I still have clothes there right? I’ve got to run to the library and get some stuff first, then I’ll just come over.”

“Yeah, if not, you can just borrow something of mine.”

You nodded in agreement, watching as the last of his things were secured in his bag.

“Alright, I’m gonna head out, text me if you need anything.” He waved back at you and made his way out of the hall.

You felt Yuta lean his head forward inches away from yours. You flinched away, bending down to get your things.

“You have plans tonight?” You frowned at his question, or rather statement. He had obviously heard the conversation between you and Mark.

You chose to ignore him, one of your greater ideas.

“Umm.. There’s a party this weekend, if you wanna come.”

You struggled to hold back a snort. Was this his new way of tormenting you? Why on earth would you go to another one of his frat parties?

“It’s for Jaehyun’s birthday.”

You froze, hand half way in your backpack. After a moment you stood up, clearing your throat, attempting to move towards the exit only to find him blocking your way.

You peered behind him, his regular clique of friends long gone, you frowned.

“What?” You breathed out, tired of whatever mind game that he wanted to play.

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the ever present scowl replaced by a timid look.

“I think it’d be nice of you to go. Cause you’re friends and all.” He shrugged half heartedly, like he was struggling to ask you to go.

He glanced at your scrunched face, confusion written all over it.

“It’s gonna be a small party, not like a huge thing. Just the boys and a few friends.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s gonna be really chill.”

“Right.”

You hesitated to ask for the date and time, but it was for Jaehyun’s birthday so you felt obligated.

You and Jaehyun had gotten closer over the last few months, a small joy in a hectic semester.

“It’s Friday, at seven. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything but yourself.” He sent you a small smile, one that sent an unsettling feeling through your stomach.

You nodded, skeptical of the situation. Your mind was racing, an internal struggle overwhelming you.

By the time you had focused back in, there was a stream of students passing by you, already entering for the next lecture, Yuta no where to be found.

You sighed, hiking your backpack up on your back and heading towards the library.

It was hard to concentrate on the task ahead of you, especially when all you had was thoughts of what was to come this weekend.

“Excuse me.” You flinched, nodding apolegitcally at the girl who reached for a book that you were blocking.

You shook your head, trying to remember what you had come here for. After a half and hour of racking your brain you gave up, opting to just go to Mark’s.

“So I didn’t find any of your clothes, but you’ve got your toothbrush here.” You weren’t focused on what Mark was saying, walking into his apartment in a daze.

“Y/N?” You turned to face him, eyes slightly more alert.

“What are you thinking about so hard?”

You sighed, flopping on to the couch and closed your eyes.

He sat next to you, and you felt his intense gaze over you.

You sat up suddenly, facing him. “What would you do if you had a friend who wasn’t really on good terms with a friend of a friend and you were invited to this friend’s kickback but it would be awkward to bring your other friend, but then it would be wrong if you didn’t tell this friend about the party, but it would also be bad to not go to the other friend’s party cause it’s his birthday?”

“What?”

You sighed, collecting your thoughts. “Jaehyun’s frat is having a party to celebrate his birthday and I was invited.”

“Okay... so?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s supposed to be a small thing, like just the frat and a few friends.”

“Right? What’s the problem?”

“Mark, what do I tell Yuna? I can’t tell her that I’m going to a party cause she’ll want to come, but that would be weird because it’s a small thing, and you know,,, Johnny. I’m sure she’ll end up making a scene.”

Mark sighed, looking away from you. “Just don’t tell her, or do, and just say she can’t go. I don’t really care.”

He stood up making his way to the kitchen. You groaned. Mark and Yuna haven’t quite been the same since the incident after the party. You haven’t found them willingly enter the same room, and even if they were forced to, they refused to interact. You were often caught in the middle of they’re snide remarks regarding each other.

“I don’t really want to go alone though. I’m not close enough with any of the frat guys to hang out there.” You griped, hands fiddling with your sleeves again.

“I thought you were cool with them.”

“Yeah, we’re friendly enough, but it’s still awkward.”

There was a poignant pause.

“Mark?” You whined, hoping that he would catch the hint.

“No, I’m done with parties.” He held up a hand, waving it in refusal.

“But it’s going to be a small one, it’s not even a real party. Please?”

“Are you even allowed to bring anyone?”

You shrugged, “He didn’t say, but it doesn’t matter, they won’t make you leave. And if they do then I’ll just say hi to Jaehyun and then leave.”

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. “Who even invited you?”

“Yuta.” You whispered out.

“Yuta? Why would he invite you?” He frowned, deep in his own thoughts.

“He said it would be nice for Jaehyun. Plus I doubt he’s going to do anything, especially because it’s Jae’s birthday. You know as much as a dick he is to girls, he probably cares about his frat brothers.” You found yourself defending Yuta.

He shot you a look, before shaking his head.

“You owe me.”

You grinned, pumping your fists in victory.

“Yes! I owe you a thousand times.” You stood up, “Where my sweats?”

“You mean my sweats.” He just shook his head and pointed towards his room, “They’re on my chair.”

You slid past his door, grabbing hold of the sweats that had been designated as yours.

After changing a picture on his desk caught your eye. It was a photo of the three of you at the beach, a memory made last year during spring break. You smiled to yourself, eyes tracing over the bright smiles. Your eyes shook as they reached Mark’s profile, too busy staring at Yuna to focus on the lense of the camera.

You winced, recognizing the way that he looked at Yuna, your heart broke for him. It wasn’t the first time you noticed the way he watched her, but seeing it so definite made you hurt for him.

“Y/N? You coming? I’m gonna start the movie if you don’t hurry your ass up!” Mark shouted from the living room, and you tore yourself away, skidding back to the couch.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna crash into something.” He laughed at you.

“What’s the point of having hardwood floors then?” You climbed over the back of the couch after dumping your clothes next to your bag.

“Who said you got to choose?” You grumbled to yourself.

“Me, cause you owe me a thousand favors now.” You smiled cheesily at him, hoping to ease his irritation with the situation you dragged him into.

“Right. Do you want anything to drink, eat, possibly a foot massage that would appease you?”

He shoved you upon hearing your teasing tone. “Don’t make me regret this.”

You laughed, turning to focus on the screen ahead of you.

You opted for something a bit more casual than what you wore the last time you entered the frat house, definitely a bit more modest.

The mood was totally different the moment that you passed the door.

“Y/N! You came!” You smiled at the familiar face.

“Of course I came, it’s Jae’s birthday.”

Jungwoo peered at Mark who stood next to you, taking in the house as if it was his first time seeing it.

“Who’s this?” He frowned, racking his brain and trying to connect face to name.

“Oh you probably don’t remember.” You laughed at the memory, “This is Mark, he kind of took care of you at the party we met at.”

His eyes flashed at sudden recognition.

“Oh! Right, you were the one that stole Y/N away from me! I never did get that dance.” He grinned cheekily at Mark’s flustered expression.

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on drinking that much this time.” He winked at you.

“That’s what you said last time.” A skinny boy with wide eyes interrupted him, throwing his arm around his shoulder.

The newcomer smiled at you, eyes turning into half moons. “I’m Taeyong, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“That’s cause you haven’t.” The familiar laid back tone answered before you a chance to.

“You were out of town the last time she was here.” Doyoung faced you, giving you a brief smile before turning back to Taeyong. “You know if you stuck around and chilled like everyone else then you would’ve known.”

You felt the tension between the two of them, glancing at Mark who had the same expression on his face.

“I’m here now, so what’s the problem?” The tone was less teasing than you expected, obviously things weren’t smooth between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter, if you didn’t up and leav-”

“Her name’s Y/N.” Jungwoo interrupted, not caring that it wasn’t quite the right timing to introduce you.

The irritation washed off Taeyong’s face as he sent you a soft smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He winked at your nervous expression. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I think I need a drink.” After sending Doyoung a glare he found Taeil close by.

“Sorry about that.” Doyoung muttered embarrassed, but he didn’t seem too genuine about his apology.

You smiled back at him, another awkward glance at Mark.

“Well drinks anyone?” Jungwoo asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” You giggled at him.

He glared at you teasingly, “What are you trying to say?”

“Okay okay, here.” Taeil swept by shoving a handful of drinks in your direction.

“Well that was easy.” Jungwoo commented before moving to greet the next newcomer.

With everything happening so quickly you hadn’t noticed that Doyoung had also escaped.

“See. I told you it would be awkward, if you weren’t here I’d be standing alone in a corner.” You shoved Mark’s side, handing him your drink.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not drinking tonight. I don’t want to do anything stupid again, drink up.” He grinned at you.

“Well I guess this is payment enough.”

It was some time later that you found yourself laughing alongside Jaehyun when you realized that you hadn’t seen Mark it a while.

“I’m gonna go grab a water.” You excused yourself and set out to find him.

“You came.” You jumped at the sound of Yuta’s voice, uncomfortably close to you.

You spun around, facing him.

“You brought your little boyfriend though.” He was obviously drunk, more so than the last time. Or perhaps you were just more aware and now you could notice his tendencies.

“Right. Have you seen him?” You asked curtly, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“So he is your boyfriend?” The alcohol had definitely left him no control over his emotions as you frowned at the crestfallen look on his face.

“No, Yuta focus. Have you seen Mark?”

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes, starting to enjoy teasing him. “Why not?”

“He’s too touchy with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only your boyfriend should touch you like that. You guys are like hugging and stuff.” He pouted at you, a new version of Yuta you had never imagined.

“You touched me.” You mumbled out, watching his reaction.

“Can I be your boyfriend?”

You stepped back, nervous for the first time. This version of Yuta made you uncomfortable. You were so used to the asshole that made snide comments and teased you. You knew it was just the alcohol talking but you felt restless upon seeing this new side of him.

Out of the corner of your eye you spotted your savior.

“Mark!” The boy spun around face bursting into a smile as he made his way over to you, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

“Y/N where’ve you been? I lost you.” His smile faded as he noticed your company. “What are you doing here?”

His tone had turned cold and he pulled you tighter against him, an action not going unnoticed by Yuta.

“I’m having a conversation. And you’re not her boyfriend.” Mark glared at him, not appreciating the tone.

“Okay?”

You cut in between their little stare down, moving to face Mark, “Hey, I already wished Jae a happy birthday and stuff, it’s getting kinda late. We should get going now if you’re ready to go.”

You motioned towards the door in case he could understand you.

He nodded, not really paying attention, something that you were expecting.

“Alright, let’s go say bye to Jae and then I’ll drive us home, okay?” You talked slowly, hoping that he would understand more easily.

You grabbed Mark’s hand, pulling him towards the patio, the last place you had seen Jaehyun.

“Oh.” You stopped and turned to face the boy staring at two of your hands. “Bye Yuta.”

His eyes whipped up to find yours, a small smile taking over his features. He lifted his hands and waved slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

“What is wrong with him?” Mark muttered under his breath, face grimaced at the sight.

You sighed, resuming your journey to Jaehyun. “He’s drunk.”

You slammed the passenger door shut and slid into the driver’s seat, once more checking that all of Mark’s limbs were attached and in the car.

“That was fun.” He laughed, staring at nothing in particular.

You snorted at his reaction. “So I don’t owe you anything anymore?”

“I never said that.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” You asked, taking a quick glance at him before regathering your attention on the road.

“Yeah.”

You drove in silence for a while, and peeked over at him. He was so silent you were sure that he had fallen asleep. But his eyes were open, hooded, but definitely open. He was staring out the window, watching the buildings flash past him.

“Do you think Yuna wants to come?”

You were startled by his sudden question.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Mark.”

“I know. But I kind of miss her.” He sounded so upset, and you began to get angry at Yuna.

“I know Mark. Things will get better though. She’s just being stubborn.”

He sighed, fogging up the window for a few seconds before it dissipated under the cold.

“Okay.”

You hesitated to continue.

“Hey Mark?”

He didn’t respond,

Your eyes found his sleeping figure slumped in the corner of the seat.

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t realize you had been holding.

“How do you do it? Deal with her knowing that she’ll probably never love you back?” You asked no one in particular, listening to the silence that followed your harsh question.

You spent the last few miles of the ride with your mind involuntarily wandering back to Yuta. Now that you thought about it he had been acting weird since the day he invited you to the party.

It wasn’t that you missed the nagging or teasing that he constantly made you endure. But it made you uneasy, reminding you why he starting doing so in the first place.

You shook your head, bringing yourself back to the road as you pulled into Mark’s designated spot. The car rocked to a standstill.

“It’s because I love her that I can do it.”

You turned to face the seemingly asleep boy, mentally cursing yourself for letting him hear your thoughts.

“Yuna, don’t you think you’re being a little too harsh on him?”

She had just spent the last twenty minutes purposely avoiding Mark, stating that it would absolutely ruin her day to see him.

“He called me a slut, are you really taking his side?” Her tone had turned fierce as you expected.

“He didn’t call you a slut. Besides if it’s something you’re ashamed of, then don’t do it.” You muttered the last bit, trying to soften the tone.

She whipped her head at you. “What? So now you think I’m a slut too?”

“No, it’s just if you’re so upset with the way that people think of you, then why do you keep giving them reason to think that way?”

It was harsh, but you had finally given up on stubborn Yuna. It was time to finally hammer it into her head.

She was at a loss for words when you looked back at her. “I shouldn’t have to care about what other people think of me.”

You bit your lip, frustrated with the way she was thinking.

“Then why are you so mad at Mark? If you don’t care what other people think of you, why are you so mad?”

“Because it’s Mark. Of course I care what he thinks.”

You stared at her, mouth slightly open, confused with her statement. But it seemed like you weren’t the only one, her eyes widened, throwing her hand over her mouth.

“I mean, he shouldn’t have said that because he’s supposed to be someone I can count on to not think of me that way. I’m supposed to be able to trust that he knows me, and has my back no matter what, not that he’d stab me in the back like that.”

“He didn’t stab you in the back. And he does have your back, no matter what. You know he’s never said one bad thing about you during this time? He just keeps asking if you’re doing okay.”You paused, thinking about your next words, hesitating for a moment.

”You know I think it’s kind of embarrassing how much you’re bad mouthing him and avoiding him when all he does as make sure that you’re doing fine.” You glanced at her as she turned away from you, trying to hide the fact that she was furrowing her eyebrows.

“Don’t you think it’s been long enough? For both of you? Would it be that hard to forgive him?” You raised your eyebrows in hopes that you would no longer be the split messenger between the two.

There was a deep sigh from her side.

“I’ll talk to him later, just the two of us. I guess I owe him that much.” You smiled at her flushed face.

She grinned back, wrapping her arm in yours, “Now tell me about the party last weekend.”

You jolted your head to the side, wide eyed. “H-how did you...?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not like I was invited. Besides it would’ve been weird right, for me to show up.” You smiled at her, thankful that she wasn’t upset.

“To be honest, it was fun. I missed hanging out with them.” She elbowed you in the side.

“Any one in particular you like hanging out with?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she sent a suggestive look your way.

You blushed, understanding her intentions. “No. They’re all fun.”

“Right. Did Yuta bother you much? I hope Mark didn’t leave you alone to be bugged by him.” She scrunched her nose, evidence that she was still annoyed by him.

“No. He didn’t bother me, he was pretty drunk.” You frowned, “He actually said something though that bugged me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, he just kept talking about me having a boyfriend.” You paused, eyes shaking at what you were about to say. “He asked if he could be my boyfriend.”

Yuna made her scandalized face, teasing you as you cut in, attempting to save face for both yourself and Yuta.

“But he was really drunk, who knows if he even knew what he was saying.” You hurried out, nibbling at your bottom lip.

“Didn’t you say he had been acting weird around you lately? Like not teasing you weird, but like he was actually kind of nice to you?” You nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, he was actually the person who invited me to Jae’s party.”

“Really?” She asked, squinting in confusion. “That’s strange, I thought he would’ve been the last person to invite you.”

“Right?” You thought to yourself for a moment, “He wouldn’t do something would he?”

“No, I think he’s just gotten bored. Maybe he’s finally tired of teasing you.” You laughed at the thought.

“Sure, I’d die of happiness if that were true.” But there was a small part of you that you chose to ignore, that felt a little sad at the thought.

“Do you want one?” You raised your eyebrow at the scene in front of you.

“I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Yuta gave you a small smile. “Taeil baked them, they’re to die for.”

You frowned at the muffin he was showing you, but eventually took it.

He nodded his head once, indicating for you to try it.

As you bit into the soft texture of the muffin your eyes widened.

“I know. I’m not usually one for muffins, but I’ll never pass on one from Master Moon.”

You giggled at the title.

“No really, that’s what he calls him self, but I’m not one to argue.” A genuine smile bloomed over his face, the first time you had seen it.

Unknowingly you returned the smile, something about it making you feel better already.

He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed smile, replacing the previous, “I’m sorry we got off on a bad foot.” He let out a big sigh, “I kind of let things get out of hand.”

You felt yourself closing off again, but realized that his words were genuine.

“I’m not gonna lie, the stuff you said and things you did hurt me. This class was hell because of you, I even avoided seeing Jaehyun because of you.”

You let out a sigh, and a heavy silence followed. You glanced at the worried expression on Yuta’s face, and you recognized the guilt.

There had been some point where your anger towards Yuta had faded. Perhaps it was the fact that he stopped bothering you, perhaps it was his confession, or perhaps it was the way that he started to look at you. You believed that there was something more to Yuta, and you wanted to get to know that side.

“But if you continue to bring me amazing snacks I’ll have no choice but to forgive you.” You laughed nervously, tearing anxiously at the empty wrapper.

“Then I’ll just have to keep bugging Master Moon.” He grinned, a reflection of yourself.

You felt your face heat up, blushing at his blatant flirting.

“Um.... I know I was like really drunk the other night. I’m not going to pretend I don’t remember pieces, because I do. And I want you to know that even though I was drunk I really meant what I said.” He glanced at you from the side, not brave enough to confront you.

“What do you mean?” You tried not to think of the way that he basically confessed to you, and you chose to ignore it.

“Uh... Do you... not remember?” He scratched his head, ruffling his hair into a more messy look.

“I’m not sure, you were saying a lot of things.” Biting your lip, you focused on the wrapper in your hand.

“Oh... I- uh...I like you.” You whipped your head to face Yuta, who was now avoiding eye contact.

“What?” It came out as a whisper, barely audible to him. You heart began beating faster, and you were worried that he would be able to hear it because it was so loud.

“I like you Y/N. Look, I know I have a pretty shitty way of showing it, but I promise that I’ll make up for it.”

You hated to leave him hanging, but you had no words. You wanted to give him some sort of reassurance, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“Will you go out with me? Or at least one date to show you I’m not a total asshole.” He wasn’t great at hiding the fact that he was nervous, and you giggled at the sight.

“Yeah. I guess one date couldn’t hurt right?” You smiled at him, boldly reaching for his hand.

He wrapped his hand around yours, pulling you close to his chest. you could hear the beating of his heart through his shirt, making you smile at the thought that you were the cause of this.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’m done making stupid decisions.”

230 notes · View notes

lledron · 3 years ago

Text

Citas incorrectas Dracula Vlad / Anna Valeruios

Vlad: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Anna: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Vlad: ...

Vlad: You mean ring bearER, right?

Anna: ...

Vlad: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Anna: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Vlad: But I'm a kleptomaniac, so that doesn't mean anything.

Vlad: *angrily presses Anna against a wall* WHERE'S THE BOOK?!

Anna: ...

Anna: Are we about to kiss-

Anna: That was so hot, Vlad.

Vlad: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Anna: I'm so in love with you.

Vlad: Are we fighting or flirting?

Anna: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Vlad: Your point?

Vlad: I love you.

Anna, not paying attention: What was that?

Vlad: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

Anna: I think I just figured something out. I got to go.

Vlad: Aren't you forgetting something?

Anna: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Vlad's forehead before running out.*

Vlad: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Vlad: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Anna: I wrote you a poem.

Vlad, already crying: You did?

Anna: The stars are so beautiful...

Vlad: They're just giant balls of gas.

Anna: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-

Vlad: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.

Anna: Oh...

Anna: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreashing.

Vlad: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Vlad: Remember, Anna, don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Anna: I think I crossed that line when I got a date.

Vlad: Did it hurt when you fell-

Anna: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-

Vlad: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.

Anna: ...

Vlad: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

Vlad: That was so hot, Anna.

Anna: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Vlad: I'm so in love with you.

Anna: Relationships should be 50/50. Vlad cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.

Vlad: Are you trying to seduce me?

Anna: Why, are you seducible?

*Anna and Vlad are in Paris.*

Anna: I'm...moved. I...I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel...destiny?

Vlad: But...

Anna: I don't know what it is. I feel like... I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and...

Vlad: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception?

Anna: Yeah.

Vlad: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe.

Anna: Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION.

Vlad: Okay, alright.

Vlad: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Anna: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Vlad: That one. I want that one.

Anna: You’re not jealous, are you?

Vlad: No!

Anna: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.

Vlad: So you like cats?

Anna: Yeah.

Vlad: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table*

Anna, to Vlad: We had a date!

Anna: *aggressively points to Hello Kitty Coloring Book*

Anna: I owe you one.

Vlad: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Anna: We have a problem.

Vlad: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Anna: Talk dirty to me, baby~

Vlad: The dishes.

Anna: Wh-

Vlad: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Anna: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Vlad: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Anna: Stop.

Anna, sweating: Vlad, there’s something I need to ask you-

Vlad: Finally! You’re proposing!

Anna: How’d you know?

Vlad: Anna, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Vlad: I even picked it up once.

Anna: Can you cut me some slack, Vlad? I’m sort of in love.

Vlad: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.

Anna: I’m in love with you.

Vlad: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Anna: Listen, we’re done, we’re over! Okay?

Vlad: Whatever bitch, you ain’t never gonna find no one like me.

Anna: Yeah, that's the point shithead!

Vlad: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Anna: Wow. They sound stupid.

Vlad: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Anna: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Vlad: I guess you’re right. Hey Anna, I love you.

Anna: See! Just say that!

Vlad: Holy fucking shit.

Anna: If that flies over their head then, sorry Vlad, but they're too dumb for you.

Vlad: Anna.

#anna valerious #anna valeruis #vlad dracula #dracula untold #van helsing 2004 #dracula #draculaxanna valeruios #dracanna

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

Text

S5 Ep6: Joey Wheeler is on Fire, Yet Again

Came down with a little sickness-not the biggie, just a little sly guy. But I took some meds, I’m a little floaty, I’ve only been listening to baroque music all morning for some reason? And I hate baroque music usually? But I’ll leave it to bro to tell me if this is fluid enough.

Just so you know, these caps were kind of a hot mess for a while and some of them read like that Garfield in of hot eat the food comic until...today. So pls don’t judge me, Judge my damn DMV where no one was following Covid regulations because I’m pretty sure that’s where I got this damn cold.

We start off with Roland getting more attention than he ever has in his entire life. Like honestly, I don’t know what Roland’s job really is...but he’s got a very diverse set of very useless skills. One of which, is knowing how to announce sports games that aren’t really a sport, while those games he’s announcing slowly fall into chaos.

Anyway, Roland’s taking so long cherishing his sweet time before everything goes to hell, that he’s boring Joey, who’s kinda turned into a ball of stress in the waiting room.

A lot of this episode is us watching them watching Joey having a break down moment by moment, TBH.

(read more under the cut)

Yugi telling Joey to study his cards and straight up--what?

Like at this point they know what’s on the cards, right? Like there comes a point where even Yugioh cards have a finite amount of words and I’m just going to assume that like...Joey probably knows them all in his own deck, right?

(bro note: they have no limit on what they will put on a card)

Then again, maybe Yugi doesn’t know what “study” means?

Also, appreciate how some artist crosshatched the hell on Joey’s nose there and I zoomed out and ruined it.

Now for some reason every duelist is hanging out in the duel lodge, including our current arch-villain guy who’s brought a book. I want to know what book this guy even reads so no one could suspect he’s actually a hacker who uses computers. He’s reading romance, right? And I don’t think he’d even be into Twilight, I think he’s straight up into hard core Mom romance like a lame ass Nicholas Sparks over there reading “Dear John” for the millionth time because he is completely un-phased by anything else happening in this room.

Joey, our hero, just out there being an asshole for no reason.

After Tea is pushed into a locker or something screaming about her need for female friends (which she screamed in earshot of Rebecca again, who I figured was on friends terms with her after last episode...but I guess not) Leon hops up to remind us that we should be caring about the fact that his character exists.

And like, I love Leon’s hair color--that’s a good choice, and legit that is the color I tried to dye my hair at the beginning of the epidemic (it didn’t work PS, my hair cannot take dye for the life of it) but also like...he just kinda feels like a weak Rebecca as far as characters go. He’s young, he’s good at cards...I think he goes to a private school? That’s all I can think of about Leon.

He mostly just reminds us that the big prize of this tourney is to duel Yugi, who anyone could have dueled at any point even without the tournament.

On the way out of the...duel room? lounge? Area? Joey decides to like...make peace with Zigfried, and I gotta tell you, I kinda have to side with Zigfried, because Joey spent the last ten minutes being a freak in the dressing room/lounge/bathroom and at one point looked like he was going to hold the entire locker room in a stranglehold.

I would also want some space from Joey Wheeler, is what I’m saying.

After insulting Joey’s style (which honestly, Joey...has a style? He pops his collar, that’s his entire style.) Zigfried assures us that Joey’s gonna lose and like...

...probably, right? Just looking at the plausible direction this season will go.

Anyway, Joey is such a mess (which is the theme of the episode, that Joey needs to learn to chill in order to win at card games) that Rebecca is like “I understand if all of you leave me to go help our poor baby Joey.” And no one felt bad for her.

Mokuba comes over to tell everyone all of the Kaiba family secrets because Mokuba has no filter.

Seto has devoted himself to staring at a computer screen for the rest of this episode. I guess he’ll put their names into Google, realize that social media hasn’t been invented yet, and then just lie his head down on the desk and take a power nap until the tournament is over. Much like I did after taking Dayquil this afternoon.

I like how Seto dressed for success and then locked himself in the server room for most of this arc so far. Maybe he’s just...really tired, I dunno. I don’t really blame the guy, he’s had a hard time.

And then Yugi was like “DAMN IT MOKUBA, JUST ONCE CAN YOU NOT INVITE THE ILLUMINATI???”

And we had a weird scene where Yugi just started talking to the ghost and it was while he was talking to everyone else, and the show didn’t treat it like that’s a weird thing to do...but it was a weird thing to do.

This show does that sometimes, where I guess they imply that Yugi’s Pharaoh conversations are split second conversations but...they’re not, right?

Also this chick ain’t gone yet, and Mokuba is just failing at his entire job for not zeroing in on vibes coming off this chick like stinky cheeseman.

So listen.

Did the Kaibas make like 3 types of Blue Eyes Caboose to one up Noah? Because Noah made one choo choo dragon, and then Mokuba and Seto were like “how dare” and then made sure that everyone ride every single version of the blue eyes caboose just to see how proud of them they were.

How many months of troubleshooting was the train? Like how long in development did Seto and Mokuba spend on these? A lot right? Like most of the time?

I did not check the subs to see if Roland said Jumping or Champion but I like to believe that Roland thought it was a cool new name he gave him.

Then these guys all showed up.

Hey so...can we talk seating arrangements?

Tea decided not to sit next to Yugi after complaining about not spending time with him for like how many episodes? Or was it too awkward to sit on top of what was probably Pharaoh?

Or did Mokuba go like “please, Tea, I cannot sit next to the others because I’m pretty sure one is a mole that is about to go cray” and was Tea like “Good, I need female friends, these ones are driving me crazy!” and then was Mokuba like peering desperately over the edge of his self made dragon train prison realizing he has to listen to Tea complain about boys for the rest of his ride across molten lava?

Headcanons abound about this weird seating arrangement that the animators drew for the reasons they did...but reasons I cannot fully understand. That and the Dayquil is making me overfixate on random stuff.

And also, Tea is kind of the Kaiba’s security’s understudy. Just there to always protect Mokuba with her ass because she’s the strongest woman alive.

PS I missed the tumblr wars because at the time I was trying to like...run a proper business on blogger. When Blogger died and I jumped over here it was like a weird ruin where everyone was like “tumblr is the most toxic place alive” and...I’ve had a really nice time here, actually. Completely missed that civil war period and I have no regrets.

Now I was there for the Petz wars (warz, I guess) where people were very militant about Petz abuse (abuze?) where apparently people were using the spray bottle on their catz too much and people were very, very upset about it to the point that they were like campaigning about it on their angelfire websites with the most bizarre grassroots campaigns that I still recall, to this day because they were like...well they looked like this:

PLAPA. Not only am I 100% positive that only this one guy ever called this movement PLAPA, but I’m 100% positive that not only are Catz not real people, but also this wasn’t actually happening and we never had any proof that it was. Either way, if people knew or suspected that you hadn’t deleted the spray bottle from your game (which at the time I had no idea how to do because I was a wee child) they would basically assume you were on a one way road to being a mass murderer in real life.

In real life we were 7 years old so like...thanks?

But that’s the closest I got to toxicity and at the time I was too young to make an email account and actually converse with these people. I was just there to download their Petz hexes, and I already made a post about how wonderful and incredible Petz Hexing was.

And y’all, I heard, just now after a little deep dive into the Petz Abuse debacle (which yes, is on the wiki), that apparently, like gardening, Petz Hexing came back in a big way during the epidemic--and I have found an active Petz forum in this the year 2021. The only problem is that I no longer remember how to use old timey forums...and I think I’m locked out of seeing most of these threads (and like this forum is so old I think I have to send them a letter in the physical mail to apply). But, I’m pretty sure they’re hosting a picture contest for who’s dogz poses the best. And I’m pretty sure someone created a hexxed Pickle Rick. Or it’s a photoshop that was made to look like a hexxed Pickle Rick.

Dammit why did it have to be Pickle Rick? That’s not worth re-installing Petz and getting it to run on Windows 10...

Guys is this the Dayquil? Is this really happening? I feel like I’m losing my mind for so many reasons...

Anyway, speaking about useless hexing it’s about time that our villain did something that was actually dangerous, so Zigfried decided to install a new virus that does more than turn off the lights. (it still turns off lights)

the Spreadsheet Virus!

Confounded by the spreadsheet software, it...um...it does this:

Straight up how does Excel make a volcano erupt? Is that why I have to pay for Microsoft office now?

All this because Joey made fun of Zigfried’s naturally pink hair? Which is the most normal hair on this series outside of like...Tristan?

Hey guys...Joey’s fine, right? Like how many times has Joey been on fire? And once in an iron cage next to like...a Fire Golem?

Joey’s fine.

MAN I miss Fire Golem. He had a good mug.

And then we just kinda watch chaos go across the park, chaos that includes: Too many ghosts in the haunted mansion (which honestly--you’ll get your money’s worth, sounds great!), the Ferris wheel goes kinda fast and thus might accidentally be fun, the lights turn off at some concert stage that only had 2 people on it (so it might just be motion detector lights and not even a virus), and um...literal fire and magma are going to set Joey Wheeler on fire.

Just...one of these events does not seem like the others. In fact most of these things sound like good improvements to the park and they should just hire Zigfried at this point.

Roland puts down his microphone and jogs across the stage, about a mile through the audience bleachers, and into the staff lounge, to go and bother Seto Kaiba, who is in a room that has a hi-def classical painting copy-pasted on the wall and I can’t look away from it.

I almost did a Google search on this painting but then thought better about it. There’s like...a billion classical paintings that look exactly like this, and they wouldn’t use like a Monet, they would have to do something that’s harder to catch to avoid copyright issues (because yes, even old ass paintings have copyright issues, but no one tell NFT’s which are going to be so freakin screwed and was such a bad idea, that I can’t even start).

Anyway, I have no idea who it is and it is legitimately driving me up a wall, but I’m on too much meds to do the effort of putting it in a reverse google image search.

Plus, a reverse google image search would only pull up Seto Kaiba.

So Kaiba takes us on a little flashback to his weird ass past, a weird ass past that just...doesn’t follow any of the established timelines, but I assume was shortly after adoption but before Seto got into a phase where he wore his school outfit everywhere and tried to shove his MMO off onto his Dad as a business model.

Seto is like 8 for some reason. I don’t know why, they kinda drew him younger this season anyway, like maybe they got a lot of fan mail and realized “Hey I think we made the 16 yo boy too sexy?” And they just toned Seto the hell down. That, and it’s a different animation team, and maybe they looked at Seto’s character design and were like “we don’t get paid enough to draw this well.” So...since Seto actually looks like a teen again, I guess his 12 year old self has to look like he’s in Elementary school.

Also, I only recognized this, because at some point in S3 as I was roasting Noah Kaiba’s weird fashion:

I remember distinctly roasting that little bow tie. I don’t remember when I wrote it, I think there was a version of this outfit that was in color...but I don’t remember where.

Anyway, it’s not the same jacket...but man that’s kind of awkward, ya? Like the maid who dressed Mokuba deffo got fired?

He um.

Turned the lights off a little bit.

Guys this villain is like...

...why does he think lights are scary? Like look at little Seto here. The boy is already bored. Seto duels on the edges of cliffs...he doesn’t care about the freakin dark.

We had a guy who killed everyone on the planet last season, and this season we have a little fashion gremlin standing in the corner and flicking the light switch going “wooooo you never catch me!” and it’s like...

...I’m starting to think this guy isn’t a witch.

Like we’re at Episode 6, there’s still time for this guy to be a witch...but I really am starting to think this guy is just...straight up not a witch. It’s everything Seto wanted, a rival who isn’t a freakin magic person...and sets Joey only fake on fire instead literally on fire like last time...

and Seto is just completely unhinged by it.

Anyway, I’m off to go drink a bowl of soup and pass out. If you’re new here, this is a link to read these in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

#yugioh #yu gi oh #ygo #S5 #Ep6 #Yugi Muto #Seto Kaiba #Joey Wheeler #Tea Gardner #Tristan Taylor #Mokuba Kaiba #zigfried von schroeder #rebecca hawkins #I talked about catz again #leon #but not the kings of leon guy #I mean he could be

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nemobookaholic · 3 years ago

Text

FrostIron Part 2

Sorry for the delay @belligerentmistletoe there you go. Let me know what you think about the final.

As before, a short reminder, I don’t own any rights to the characters, they belong to Marvel (if it wasn’t obvious, but I have to say it anyway).

I’m willing to go on in writing this ship, if I get enough input. Cause those two idiots are that much alike, no chance they’ll have a harmonic relationship, hehehe. Yeah sorry I’m an evil writer. Anyway, I love them and putting them in unknown situations is fun. Please let me know if you have an idea for me to play with 🖤

It had been two weeks since the incident with Loki. Tony had managed to avoid him completely until today. A Team meeting was set by Steve and he wanted all of the Avengers to join.

The mechanic waited until the last minute to go upstairs. He had distracted himself with building a new suit. But his traitorous thoughts had returned to the god, as soon as he let focus slip for just a second.

What would he give for a drink!

Not even the fact that Pepper sat their relationship on pause, did bother him as much as those lips he almost had kissed without permission.

Maybe he should worry more about not being in a proper relationship right now?

“Boss, Mr. Rogers is asking for you,” Friday told him for the second time.

There weren't any excuses left, so finally he made his way upstairs to face the Team, to face Loki.

When Tony entered the room, he immediately cursed himself inwardly. The only place available to sit was to Loki's left.

What did he even think? He should have known that nobody wanted to sit next to him but Thor. And that the chances for Loki to get a place with only one person sitting next to him would be extraordinarily small.

Tony clenched his fists and took a seat next to the mischievous god, ignoring him completely. He stared at Steve instead, to signal him to start the meeting.

So Captain America started a boring lecture on the new members and to give them a chance. He talked about how the Avengers had to take over responsibility for damaged buildings and destruction they had done in the past.

Tony barely listened to him, he just watched his mouth moving, not willing to admit the feelings evolving inside of him.

With every second he got jumpier, his leg started trembling with his hands clutched to the armrest.

“Relax,” a soft voice said from his right. Tony finally had to look at Loki, who showed no sign of discomfort at all.

The tension eased off and Tony started to relax, his hands slid into his lap. Slowly he opened his fists and closed them again under the table. Repeating it like a ritual that would protect him from evil.

Suddenly he felt a hesitant touch to his arm. The mechanic froze. Loki, not stopped at this point must have felt encouraged, cause he shoved his hand into Tony’s and entangled their fingers.

“Tony, are you alright?” Steve asked him, as the shock was visible to his face.

“Sure, what should be wrong,” he replied.

“It’s just, you are unusually silent today,” several heads around the table nodded.

“Just tired. Haven’t been sleeping in days,” the mechanic said in defence. Loki squeezed his hand, as if he would exactly know what kept Tony up at night.

“Well okay, anyway, can I get your attention some longer?” Steve started to be a pain in the ass.

He lectured on, eying Tony now and then.

What if some of the others would notice they were holding hands?

Cold sweat ran down Tony’s back, the god next to him still entirely relaxed. It just wasn’t fair. He could feel Loki's attention on him like a rock on his shoulders. Even if none of the others seemed to care, heck they didn’t even look at him. Tony was the only centre of attention with his strange behaviour.

Loki giggled under his breath what gave Tony the feeling, the god was enjoying all this.

Tony cursed inwardly, referring to Loki with the worst curses he was able to imagine.

He didn’t know how, but Loki would have to pay for this.

***

The meeting turned out to be splendid fun. A bright smile was plastered onto the gods face, which irritated his team mates, made the mechanic grumble some more and his brother skeptical.

The sun couldn’t shine any brighter today.

“Brother I don’t hope you are up for something evil?” Thor took him aside.

“If I’d assure you that it won’t cause any harm, would I be allowed in some mischief?”

“Loki, your plans tend to attract chaos, so you'd better be careful. No matter what it is your restless mind set itself up to,” Thor warned him

“I promise,” Loki held his hands up in defence.

“You better keep your promise this time,” Thor said in a low voice, before he left.

Loki headed down the corridor, trying to catch up to the others. He had no intention to get lost in the building a second time. At the edge of the corner Tony’s voice forced him to slow down.

“It’s nothing,” he could hear the mechanic say.

“I thought we were beyond this point,” a second voice, that belonged to Colonel Rhodes, said. “Is it because Pepper put you on hold again? You can tell me.”

Stark sighed heavily, “Look…things are difficult at the moment. All I want right now is to numb my thoughts and build a new suit. Is that too much to ask for?”

“If that’s what you need, go for it. But remember to rest, that’s all I’m going to ask for. You're my friend Tony, I don’t enjoy seeing you like this.”

Loki overheard the conversation with some interest. He almost felt sorry for pushing Antony this hard. The god was still lingering behind the corner, when Tony turned it and bumped right into him.

“You!” the mechanic grumbled.

Loki showed an uncomfortable smile.

Tony seized him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “What was that inside there?!” he spat out the words.

“I don’t know what you mean—haven’t you been the one who was going to ki…” Loki lost his breath, as Tony slammed him against the wall once more.

They heard steps heading towards them.

“Not out here,” Tony pressed through his teeth, indicating Loki to follow him, as he let go of his clothes.

They stepped into an elevator nearby. The god breathed out loudly. He had no good memory of his last conversation inside a lift.

There was no way doing get help again.

“I might need to apologise,” Loki muttered.

Tony just stared at the numbers passing by.

“Anthony?” he asked in a gentle voice.

The mechanic turned around to face him, with a fire to his eyes Loki almost misinterpreted. There was anger to it, but also fear, pain and desire?

He stepped closer towards Stark, lowering his head. Now it was his turn to shove him against the wall, his arms building a cage around the mechanic's body, leaving him no chance to escape. As if he could have gone anywhere at all.

Tony’s breath had accelerated, his system overheated causing a moment of madness between them.

As their lips collided, there was nothing but pure lust to it. A bestial hunger that consumed the whole air within the tiny cabin.

Tony freed himself first, only to commise Friday to stop the elevator. The mechanic's knees gave in, slowly he slid down to the ground. Loki followed, kneeling between Tony’s widely spread legs. Not willing to let go of him so soon.

“Anthony,” he said, his voice a sexy whisper.

Tony pulled him in again, grabbing for his shirt like he would drown.

They kissed, their tongues dancing to the melody of their fast paced hearts.

“Stop it! We can’t do this,” Tony pushed him away again.

“I’m confused. You seemed to enjoy it in the first place,” Loki leaned back at the other side of the lift.

“I’m not gay,” Tony said.

Loki laughed at the top of his lungs. “That’s your problem? You puny creatures and your vain ego’s.”

“It’s just…I can’t,” Tony tried again.

“And why is that? Your lives are already this short, so why don’t you allow yourself the pleasure of adultery?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Tony hesitated.

“Oh really? Would it be easier for you if I looked different?” Loki shifted his appearance into a well known female one, he was sure Tony would accept to copulate with.

“Jesus! No.” the mechanic protested at once.

“I thought she was your girlfriend? What’s the matter with that?”

“Yes, no. It’s complicated. It doesn’t help at all, if you’d look like her.”

“Fine,” Loki raised his hands in frustration. He wasn’t used to meeting with a rebuff. “I’ll tell you what’s complicated, humanity and their awkward look onto sexuality! As gender would make any difference to it!”

Tony was staring at the floor.

“I’m grievously disappointed in you Anthony. I thought you would be different.” Loki got up again. “Lady Friday, would you be so kind as to relieve us, please?”

The elevator was put into motion again and Loki pressed the button for Ground floor.

The god left as soon as the doors opened, leaving Stark to his thoughts.

***

Somehow Tony made his way back upstairs to his room. He found himself distressed and numb. Had he really had such strong desires towards Loki? How had he been able to ignore them for so long?

Still he was horny and just the thought of the god’s lips sent his blood downstairs.

Maybe that was the point why he couldn’t make out with Pepper any longer?

He pushed that thought far away, yet it came back at him like a boomerang. Had he been blind all those years? But even if he had been, why did it have to be Loki?

What was it that attracted him to a murderous god?

Tony was desperate.

For the first time in his life he had no idea on how to fix it.

“Show me what he’s doing,” he told Friday, as he sat down, fiddling on a part of the armour to keep his hands busy.

“I’m sorry to say Sir, but we’ve lost the signal,” she replied.

Tony had placed a tiny spy software to Loki’s apartment as he’d left last time. Just to check if the god would behave. But there was a possibility he might have used it for private purposes the last few weeks.

How could he have lost the signal? His technical gadgets never failed.

Loki must have found it.

Question was, for how long had he known about it?

That guy definitely was a trickster. Tony tore his hair out over thinking of Loki. The screwdriver in his hand slipped off and damaged a sensible part of the armour.

“Fuck!” Tony shouted, throwing the piece into a corner.

“May I assist you Sir?” Friday offered her help.

“No, I just need to sleep. I have been up for too long,” the mechanic answered. He took the secret corridor to his bedroom.

But as he laid down, his thoughts were dancing around today's events. Tony knew there was no way he could have a good night's rest, if he hadn’t at least talked it off.

Deep down in the darkest part of his brain, he knew Loki had been right. How could he, the great Tony Stark, shy away from the fulfilment to his desires?

If he was honest with himself, something he usually avoided, he wanted the god more than anything else.

“Friday, cancel everything for tonight, I’ll be having a night out.”

“Yes Sir.”

***

Loki was channel hopping, when a sudden knock on his door made him jump. He half expected, half hoped for Stark to show up, after he had destroyed the little spy. He turned off the TV and answered the door.

There he was, the man that had let him down only hours before.

Loki leaned in the doorframe, his arms crossed staring at Tony in silence.

“I guess I deserve this,” Tony was scratching his head, “may I be allowed to come in?”

Loki stepped aside, asking him in with a gesture of his hand. Stark entered the flat still unsure on how to begin.

“Look I’ve been an idiot, okay?” he started, “I-i have no idea on how to do this. Talking about my feelings isn’t something I’d do on a regular basis. And to be fair, that, whatever it is between us, isn’t something that happens to people every day.” The mechanic’s cheeks turned red, as he looked everywhere but at the god.

A smile flashed over Loki’s face, “so you’ve changed your mind?” he simply asked.

“I wouldn’t see it like that. Let’s say I’m here to find out, if it might possibly work between the two of us.” Tony wanted it to sound casual, but his voice gave his nervousness away.

“That’s enough for now,” Loki said, reaching out for Tony. The god grabbed the other man by the hand, guiding him into the bedroom.

The place was dominated by a tester bed that had dark green velvet curtains to its sides. The only comfort Loki allowed himself. The double sheets were of emerald green silk, accurately spread across the bed.

The god led Tony to one side of it, implying him to sit down. Loki recognised how Tony was biting his lips, so he let himself sink into the pillows, hugging the mechanic from behind. He breathed in the smell he had missed.

In a sudden second of recognition, he figured out what fruity scent it was he wondered about last time. It was blueberries.

Loki kissed Tony’s neck, tempting him with his hot tongue. Meanwhile Tony tried to unbutton his shirt with shaky fingers.

“Let me help you,” Loki offered, pressing his chest against Tony’s back, peeking over his shoulder. He opened the shirt and freed the mechanic from the fabric.

The god let his fingers wander up and down Anthony’s chest, finally resting at his nipples, waiting for permission to go on.

A moan of pleasure escaped Tony’s throat, which was approbation enough for Loki. He twisted and rubbed them between thumb and index finger.

“How does that feel?” he whispered into Tony’s ear.

“Odd,” the mechanic pressed the words through his teeth.

“Ah, so you’d never allowed yourself to take pleasure out of it? Let me show you the possibilities,” Loki smirked. The god leaned backwards, so Tony slid down into his lap.

The mechanic buried his face in his hands, while Loki let his tongue dance over the most sensitive steads on the other man's body.

“Anthony, show me your face,” Loki pulled Tony’s arms upward and fixed them over his head, holding them together with just one hand.

Tony had been this agitated, he hadn’t noticed the god was all over him by now. His long fingers hooked into the waistband, already opened it, pulling the trousers down.

“Wait,” the mechanic said, “don’t you get undressed?”

“Everything at it’s time. Always inpatient,” he chuckled. Loki leaned in, to kiss Tony. While he was distracted, the spell faded, showing the Asgardian god in all his glory.

The moment he let go of Tony, the mechanic gasped, “does that mean you were nude all the time?”

“Who knows?” Loki was clearly flirting with him.

Yet Tony knitted his brows together, aware of what had to happen next. The thought must have been written on his face as Loki answered it: “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that will hurt you, or make you uncomfortable. Just let me know if we’ve reached your limit.”

“I don’t think I can…well you know…” he stuttered.

Loki nodded, “of course, I didn’t expect you to, the first time you laid down with another male.” He let go of his hands and sat up. “Would you like to take the active part then?”

“Show me,” the mechanic's eyes were overcast with lust.

***

They made love to each other all night long. Tony always had imagined himself a skilled lover. Turned out he was wrong. Loki had centuries of experience and he did things to him, Tony never had dreamed off, or thought them being possible at all.

By dawn he fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. He curled up next to Loki, who didn’t seem to be tired at all.

Tony woke from the smell of coffee, arising next to him.

The god was leaning in the pillows, with his long legs crossed, reading a book absently sipping from his mug.

“My apologies, I didn’t intend to wake you,” Loki said the moment he realised the other man was looking at him. “I can go to the living room, you must be tired.”

“No, that’s okay,” Tony rubbed his eyes.

“Would you like a cup of coffee then?”

“Yes, please.”

The god got up, to get one for Tony. The mechanic stretched his body, it was only by now that he felt how physically demanding it had been, trying to keep up with Loki.

The moment he sat up leaning into the pillows, like Loki did moments before, the god came back handing him a steaming mug.

Tony was fascinated, on how the black dressing gown underlined the gods' tall, wiry figure. Memories of sweaty, hot nakedness flashed his mind. If he only had the energy to get up, he would have the god begging for mercy this time.

Sipping his coffee, he hid his face until Loki sat back to his former spot.

“So, what do you think about our arrangement? Is it something you would like to continue?” Loki asked.

“I’ve never experienced something similar…” Tony answered, his mind drifting off again. To Loki kneeling over him, doing things with his tongue while his fingers had reached regions of Tony’s body, he never had thought of touching himself. Yet it had caused immense pleasure.

“That mean?” Loki was eying him uneasy.

“I’ll have to join Pride month next time,” the mechanic whispered. He still wasn’t sure if it would work out well between them. Heck both of them were stubborn and proud and not used to letting people come close in any way.

“Maybe we should keep it a secret, until we both feel pleasant about whatever will evolve out of this night?” Loki suggested.

“Agreed,” Tony nodded. “So what next? Shall we have dates? Or do we visit each other for random quickies?”

“Relax Anthony. We could start on exchanging numbers?”

“You have a phone?” Stark looked at the god with big eyes.

“Of course I have. I’m not Thor, I know how to adapt myself. A friend showed me how to use it,” Loki tilted his head.

“Friend?” Tony couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, Anthony. Believe it or not, I have a friend. Her name is Verity.”

“Sorry, I guess I was just surprised at how fast you’ve made yourself at home.”

“I had to. There’s nothing else left to call a home.” Loki was staring at his feet.

Tony was patting his back, shifting uneasy. It was time for him to leave. Usually he would steal away in the middle of the night, maybe leaving a note that said ‘thank you’. He was far away from his comfort zone and needed time to process all this.

“Uhhm, so—I need to go back, a lot of work is waiting for me,” he lied.

Loki scribbled down his phone number for Tony. “See you at the next mission, I suppose?” Loki was raising an eyebrow.

“Probably. I mean it’s New York. Ancient gods try to destroy it all the time.”

“Hey! It was just one time.”

The two men looked at each other, bursting out with laughter.

As Tony stepped out the door, he felt this was the first time he really wanted it to work. Like he had found a kindred soul, and so thought Loki lying in his bed.

-Fin-

#frostiron #loki x tony #tony x loki #mcu fanfiction #tony stark #iron man #loki #loki of asgard

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thinking-in-symbols · 3 years ago

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Quinquennial Life Assessment

So, it’s been a few years. When I was 19 I posted a sort of “roadmap” for the evolution of my life on this blog. Today I thought I’d revisit that. I want to take a look back and see what progress I’ve made, and then in a separate post I want to turn to the future, think about how my vision for it has changed, and consider how I can reincorporate these goals into that vision.

This is the list of things I wanted to get done in varying time frames. I’ve crossed off the things I’ve done to get a sense of my progress:

1 year:

At 19, my hopes were to accomplish the following things by age 20:

- Joined, and consistently participated in, at least 2 campus organizations that suit my interests, at least 1 of which should be competitive in nature - well, I joined the ISO and KVRX, my college radio station! Neither of those were competitive, but in retrospect I don’t really care about that :-)

- Made concrete plans to study abroad - Nope, unfortunately I never did this. I’m not quite sure I regret that, all things considered - I traded that experience for other things. I did make plans to spend a few months abroad of my own accord, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling global pandemic. But as it stands I haven’t done this.

- Learned C++ and python to proficiency - Hm. “Proficient” is a relative term. But I think I have a tendency to downplay my skills, so in the interest of counteracting that I’m going to count myself as “proficient” in these languages. I think that’s fair.

- Gone on at least a several day road trip with at least 1 friend - I’ve gone on several trips with @meeshbug, my very lovely girlfriend and best friend in the world :-)

- Decided on a concentration beyond the extremely vague umbrella of “computer science” - Unfortunately as far as my education is concerned I never really did this. If anything my interests have *broadened* rather than becoming more focused. More on this later...

- Made meaningful, ongoing contributions to an open-source project - You know what? I’ve published the source of everything I’ve ever made, and I’ve gotten to the point where I can make stuff that’s not trivial. So I’m giving myself credit for this one.

- Learned to cook enough meals to eat in most days and not get sick of my own food - I wish. I’ve learned to cook a fair amount of stuff but I still get way too depressed and lethargic to apply that consistently. Whether I consider myself to have achieved this honestly depends on the month.

- Learned to keep my living area clean - I’m much better at this than I was at 19, but at 19 I could barely clear a path to walk across my room. So there’s more work to do. More on these last two later.

- Gotten a pet - Meesh and I have a dog named Courage (after the dog of cowardly fame) and a cat named Jax!

2 years:

- Independently written a piece of software to completion and deployed it publicly - I’ve always pretty bad at actually seeing projects through to completion, but I do have a few full, independent projects under my belt at this point. I’ve built a simple game engine, a pathtracer, plugins for games I like, and some other stuff.

- purchased and begun regularly using some basic amateur radio equipment - Ah man. I got my license but I still haven’t gotten any equipment. I guess I have to get on that...

- purchased and begun experimenting with some basic music recording equipment - This one I’ve done, but I haven’t done as much experimenting as I’d like.

- hosted a party - I did this for my 21st birthday and it’s one of my favorite memories! Honestly this was probably the last time I had all my really close friends in one place. I’m actually getting kind of emotional about that.

- done some kind of hallucinogen - I have now done this. I definitely did get something out of it, albeit not what I expected. This is something I actually only did pretty recently and it’s still having a pretty profound effect. Maybe I’ll write a separate post about this.

- Gone camping with friends - Despite my best efforts, this hasn’t happened yet. Pretty fucked up.

3 years:

- learned to play another instrument besides the piano (guitar?) - I don’t feel comfortable crossing this one off quite yet, but I went ahead and bought myself some guitar equipment and have been messing around with it lately :-) I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and pay for lessons if I’m serious about this, which I am.

- Written and recorded a song - Damn, I can’t believe it’s been 5 years and I haven’t even done this.

- Met a group of people I can play music with - nope

- Owned a leather jacket. I can’t believe I’ve still never even owned a leather jacket - I’ve done this and wore it frankly too much. Kinda cringe.

- Worked as a professional software developer - Yep! Worked as a software developer for a retail company for a couple years. I’m actually not working as a software developer right now, though; I’m working in a sort of adjacent position. More on this later.

- Participated in research related to my field - That’s pretty ambitious. Not sure I’ll ever do this, unfortunately. But we’ll see.

- Been to a film festival - Oh shit, I totally forgot about having written this. That’s a cool idea. I should do this, it’s not like it’s hard (well, at least in principle. I guess covid kind of changes the situation).

- Gotten a dog - Courage is one of those, I think, although he might also be part rat.

- collected 50 records - Lol, my dumb ass really thought I was going to buy $1,000 worth of records on college money. No, I haven’t done this, but I’m on my way there.

- Purchased a desktop computer - Well, my dad gave me his old desktop. That’s not really a purchase but I think it counts.

5 years:

- Begun accepting freelance development gigs - haven’t gotten here yet and I’m not totally sure this is a direction I want to go in my career. Freelancing has its own stressors as I’ve come to learn from others. No career path is sunshine and roses and I’m trying to internalize this fact.

- Participated in a student film - Nope. I don’t even know why I wrote this down to be honest.

- Gotten laid by solving a 5x5 Rubik’s Cube in front of a girl because surely that’s gonna have to work on someone eventually, otherwise I wasted a lot of time - These are getting weird. Surely I didn’t really expect this to happen, right? Well, either way I now have a long-term girlfriend, so I don’t - wait, Meesh has seen me solve a Rubik’s cube and she saw it before we started dating. So actually I’m going to give myself credit for it. I’m the one who makes the rules here.

- Fleshed out my political opinions - Yes, I now know everything about politics and can answer 100% of questions on political issues. Just kidding. But I know where I stand.

- Participated in a protest or some other kind of political event - Done! Went to a few protests as part of the ISO, participated in lots of their events, and attended some protests with friends as well.

- Studied abroad - Nope :-/

- Learned a language other than Spanish - I took a semester of French! But I don’t quite want to give myself credit for this one because I really would like to learn a different language to something resembling fluency.

- Run a marathon - Lmao. I am in much worse shape now than I was when I wrote this post, and even at that time I could probably do like 7 miles if I really pushed myself. How sad.

- Gone hiking outside of texas - This is weird because I’d literally already done this when I wrote this post. But I’ve done it more since then, so hey!

- Been out of the country with a friend - This I had also already done. I guess the point is to have done it without “adult supervision” or whatever. I haven’t done this since writing this list so I guess I have to leave it uncrossed.

10 years:

- Lived with a girl for an extended period of time - Meesh 🥰

- Spent at least 6 months living on the road in an RV, preferably with a dog and a girl - God, I am so close to being able to do this. I don’t want it to be an RV anymore - those things are expensive. But a van? Still pricey, but doable, especially if I’m willing to sacrifice some comfort. This has actually been front-of-mind for a while. I’ll let you know when I get the balls to pull the trigger.

- Started making Real Money - Well, yep, I have gotten to that point. I do have other thoughts on this, though. Money is weird, man.

- Lived in a long-term living space outside of Texas (i.e. not including RV time) - How long is long-term? Three months? If so, I’ve done this by living in Boston with Meesh for a few months after she went there for law school. However, I anticipate staying there much longer in the near future, so I’ll wait on this crossing this one off.

- Written a book about something, idk - Not yet. I’m halfway to the deadline on this one and I have some ideas, but ideas aren’t worth all that much, especially to me, who rarely sees them through. We’ll see where this goes. It’s not exactly a priority and historically I struggle to get even my priorities done. It might make more sense to replace this with recording a concept or narrative album, for which I also have ideas that I happen to take more seriously.

- Learned to solve a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Gotten laid by solving a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Lived in an apartment where I pay all the rent - Yes! :-))) We love independence

- Earned an advanced degree (this one’s iffy) - This hasn’t happened, and whether it will ever happen is something I’ve been thinking a lot about. I sort of decided half-way through college that I would be totally burned out on school by the time I graduated. But in retrospect it takes way less time to burn out on work than it does to burn out on school, and grad degrees are a different kind of thing. So it’s worth revisiting.’

- Given a best man speech (Sam, this means you have to get married within the next 10 years. Good luck out there.) - Holy shit, Sam, you maniac, you actually did it! Sam got married back in 2019 and I gave his best man speech! It’s another one of my favorite memories :-)

- Gone on a cruise with someone I’m dating - Hmm, not yet. I’ve gone on cool trips, but none on a boat. Maybe that’s something to aim for after the pandemic passes :-)

Retrospective:

1yr: Completed: 5/9

More than half isn’t bad! I’m not gonna worry too much about whether I got these things done within their assigned “time-frame”. I’m a procrastinator in my heart and I don’t see any reason to put that kind of pressure on myself. The point is, they got done. That’s enough for me.

The things I did best in in this category were academic things, and things to do with relationships. I’m proud of the academic achievements, I really feel like doing them has increased my belief in myself and my sense that I’m good at the thing I’ve spent the last four years studying. And of course, I am so happy to be in a loving, fulfilling relationship that brings so many good things into my life. I almost feel like the things I accomplished sort of fell into my lap - of course I’m gonna do programming stuff as a programming student, and getting pets / going on road trips are things I did as a result of my relationship with Meesh. I don’t say that to downplay the accomplishments, but I do think it’s worth noting.

The things I haven’t done are more to do with personal development, which is disappointing. I would like to be able to say, 5 years down the road, that I’ve done the personal development I expected to do in just a single year, but maybe that’s a lot to expect. These are problems I’ve dealt with my whole life. I think what this means is that I can’t expect everything to fall into my lap. Those things are going to take real concerted effort to change. I’m not quite sure how to go about that, though.

2yrs: Completed: 4/6

Two-thirds! Even better!

Lots of these are one-time accomplishments, not so much long-term commitments to personal development. The good news is, I did them, and I think those resulted in some development in their own right :-)

Again, though, the things I didn’t do so well are the things that require long-term, concerted effort. For instance, while I crossed off the one about experimenting with music, it’s really only the initial investment that I’ve really done at this point. It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to follow through on the commitment to actually experiment and learn.

3yrs: Completed: 4/10

This category also follows the same pattern I’ve noticed with the last two. The other thing I’m noticing is that so, so much of my effort over the past few years has been going towards developing a very particular skill: programming / computer science. Music and art are so important to me, but I’ve done very little real development in those areas. I mean, I’ve done some. But not as much as I would have hoped for half a decade.

5yrs: Completed: 4/10

This is getting a little more fun because less of my goals have to do explicitly with my degree. I’m starting to think beyond college, which is good, because the stage of life I’m in right now requires me to start thinking about the kind of life I want to build now that I’m done with school. Also, I’m at the deadline for this one right now! So this is a particularly interesting category because it really shows where I thought I’d be by this time.

The goals I accomplished in this timeframe are, again, mostly things I’ve done through my relationship, but politics also feature pretty prominently on this part of the list. I spent a lot of time reading and researching political issues during college and really did look for ways to participate. I honestly made politics a pretty big part of my identity over the last 5 years, and I think it will stay that way forever, but I’ve gotten to the point where I think I need to devote less of my mental energy to knowing more. I know what I need to know. It’s time to think about other things.

10yrs: Completed: 4/11 (and counting!)

There’s some career stuff in this section that I’ve been able to do, which is good news. I’ve always been scared about entering the working world. All things told, it’s gone more smoothly than it could have. But I also have lots of lingering doubts about what I want to do in the long term. So one of the most pressing goals I should aim for is to resolve those doubts.

Ultimately, I have a lot of time left, and I’m not even done with this time frame, so I’m not gonna spend much time dissecting the things I haven’t done. What I’ll do instead is say that while I didn’t do everything on this list, I feel proud of the things I have accomplished. I said when I first wrote this list that it’s sometimes hard for me to feel that my life is moving in any particular direction, and I’m still feeling like that five years later, to be honest. But looking back on these things has helped me see that I actually am making progress in my life. Not in all the ways I want to, but that’s OK. There’s still time.

In the next couple days I want to come back to this and reorganize this list into an updated set of goals, for the same time frames. Maybe that will help me think through exactly what it is I want out of the next five-ten years, with the benefit of having analyzed the things that I did and didn’t do well over the previous five.

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bubmyg · 5 years ago

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dare to begin - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: college!au, f2l (idiots to lovers), amateur model!jeongguk, aspiring photographer!jeongguk, amateur stylist!reader, graphic design student!reader, a touch of angst, mostly tooth rotting fluff

word count: 16,748

summary: jeongguk has a camera and you have a pirated editing software so what better for two broke college students to do than to open a photography business to their…closest friends on facebook or where kim seokjin’s modeling agency wants to sign jeongguk and you don’t know the first thing about curling his hair.

a/n: this was inspired by that random dispatch photoshoot in vegas...i’m not even sorry

“Oh fuck off.”

Jeongguk’s head lifted from where his forehead was pressed between the crook of his elbow, squinting at you through bleary eyes. “...for once, I didn’t even say anything—”

“Not you,” You clicked so angrily on the notification, it didn’t register and you had to jam your index finger into the button again, “The bursar’s office.”

“Oh, did they—” Jeongguk rolled to his back, head half dangling off the end of your bed as he pulled his phone to his face. “—oh. Tuition statements.”

“How can they make us pay for something that hasn’t even started yet? We haven’t even finished this semester.”

“What are they going to do if we don’t pay by the first day of the semester—” Jeongguk’s eyebrows peered at you underneath his phone, “—kick us out?”

You glared at the mass of numbers twisted into the statement until they muddled together and gave your conscious the mirage that the cost was an extra digit more. Your phone skidded across the surface of your desk, coming to a stop in the pointed corner next to a decorative jar of pens and a concert ticket you’d pushed through the cork board material substance lining the back.

“They won’t kick me out?” You didn’t look up from studying a fray of graining wood on the pointed corner of your desk but cocked an eyebrow at the waiver of uncertain concern in Jeongguk’s voice paired with the change in position from we to me, “Will they?”

“I don’t know,” You answered truthfully, arm slung over the back of your desk chair to face his pouted lips still slung backward over your bed. An unspoken why would they kick you out? “I really don’t.”

He answered your rhetorical with closed eyes and his phone pressing to his abdomen, “I don’t know if I’ll...have enough. That much. By then. Even if it’s not until the end of the summer…”

You scolded the glaring image of your bank statement when you gently tried, “There’s all kinds of loans you can apply for. What about scholarships? Isn’t the science department like...the biggest at the university? Surely they offer something—”

“I don’t think I have the grades,” There was a silence occupied by his notebook with messy organic chemistry notes rewritten twice from the previous semester when he’d taken the exact same class. Jeongguk dropped your gaze, shifting until the back of his head was resting on the side of your mattress while he went for his cuticles, picking at the edge of his thumb while soft red crept into his puffed cheeks and flaring nostrils.

You abandoned the open animation file on your laptop that you’d forgotten to click save on for the seventeenth time within the hour, a final project you just had to turn in with a semi coherence to the material of the semester to maintain your existing grade. You stumbled, desk chair catching on the edge of your crumbled rug but it didn’t deter you from flopping in beside Jeongguk, leaning over him with both elbows pressed into his stomach to snatch his notebook. He eyed you curiously under wavy fringe until you settled on him, chin pressed into the bottom of the pages as a concentrated scrunch met the pass of your eyes over his handwriting.

“What are you doing?”

You glanced up, gradual in the drag of your hands up his sides until you could jam your index fingers into the sensitive spots around his ribs, coaxing a soft squirm and a gasping giggle from his lips.

“Helping you get those grades. Do you really want to take organic chemistry for the third time?” Jeongguk didn’t flinch because your inquiry wasn’t teasing or jabbing, it was serious for the sake of never seeing him on the verge of tears over three credit hours again. He shook his head in negation instead, reaching behind him to snatch one of your pillows to drag behind his neck, propping him up just enough to study the curl of your stature against his chest.

“No, ma’am.”

“Good, now pay attention.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You watched Jeongguk sink his teeth into the mint chocolate ice cream balanced two dollops high on a cone with a wrinkle to one side of your nose, the smile on your lips forced when he swallowed the green between his cheeks and quipped, “What?”

“You know what,” You twirled a string of hot fudge onto your plastic fork, mouthing your lips over it until the sweet substance melted on the roof of your mouth, “Forget it.”

He shrugged, happily taking another, literal, bite off the opposite side of the treat tower, lips sponging down the length of his hand to noisily suck on the melted stream of ice cream that had rippled across his knuckles.

You sighed. Jeongguk grinned mint green, “Tastes like freedom.”

“My summer job says otherwise.” The bookstore wasn’t a fun place of employment during the school year let alone when three fourths of the student body was gone.

Jeongguk dabbed at the corner of his lips with a napkin, a sharp contrast to the way he’d been barbarically gnawing his way through the ice cream, “So does my summer tutoring. A lesser of two evils.”

“I suppose…”

“At least we can drink on Wednesday’s now and only feel slightly guilty.”

“You don’t drink.”

“I drink a little—”

“Is this your way of asking me to come over for beer tonight?”

He grinned sheepishly, “Doesn’t have to be for beer. Hoseok moved back home yesterday. I’m extra alone.”

You eyed his prize possession, his camera, encased snugly inside it’s over the shoulder case that Jeongguk kept within grasp on the tiny cafe table shared between the two of you. He followed your gaze, a careful hand coming to rest on the strap even though he knew you respected his comfort enough not to touch it.

“So, what, you talk me into following your wandering ass around the park for hours to take pictures and now you want me to hole up in your apartment and watch whatever terrible nature documentary you’ve found on Netflix?”

Jeongguk mumbled around another chunk of the treat in his palm, unaffected because he knew you were going to show up at his apartment regardless of invitation, “I bought us ice cream, didn’t I?”

You grumbled your thanks into your deviation of attention, pulling your phone to your eyes as you jabbed another spoonful of sundae into your cheeks. Jeongguk continued to happily munch while you scrolled through one social media and then the other, finally landing on Facebook with a disgruntled roll of your eyes the second the first post appeared.

“What?”

“Facebook.”

“Did Yoongi post another Area 51 meme?”

You scrolled to the next post just to confirm that yes, sadly, before scrolling back up to the original source of your offending scoff. You eyed the generic smile plastered on the lips of the girl you’d went to high school with, the same as the generic caption on the generic set of pictures she’d taken of her dog and someone’s baby, advertising a brand new photography business, one she’d be doing on the side with no prices listed and simply a shoot me a text to book an appointment!, a service exclusive to those who knew her and who would pay her a little extra because of that connection and a business page created exclusively for a business that would be forgotten by the end of the summer.

Your lips parted to explain, unfortunate in absently scrolling past Yoongi’s string of laughing emojis at whatever Area 51 meme his conspiracy theorist group chat had sent him that morning, before you were pausing. Thumb freezing, lips parted in a perfect circle, eyes the only thing moving as they swept upward.

Jeongguk watched you like you were seconds away from shedding a shell or sprouting a second head or both, ice cream sticking to the pout of his bottom lip and a new melted stream lipping into the stretch between his thumb and index finger. He didn’t follow your gaze when it jerked from him to his camera bag, watching as your entire being lit like the thing you were sprouting wasn’t a second head but instead a hovering light bulb.

“You know what we should do?”

“...go to the park and take pictures of the playground equipment in obscure angles that strangely turn out to be aesthetically pleasing?”

“Close,” Your nail dug into your screen until you were at the top post again, flipping your phone over while you continued to study the zippers wrapped to the width of Jeongguk’s camera bag. When he’d squinted at the screen for what you deemed necessary to get the gist of the post, you continued, “We should open a photography business.”

Jeongguk squinted, “A what now?”

“A photography business. You take the pictures, I edit them. Foolproof way to earn extra cash.”

“In order to have a photography business we have to have something to photograph…”

“I bet we can get Yoongi to pay us twenty bucks to take pictures of his dog.”

“It’s almost not worth the twenty—”

“Okay, forty dollars,” You shrugged, reaching out with your own clean but crumpled napkin to dab at the excess ice cream on his hand, “I’m sure there’s some of our friends back home who need pictures of their baby. Or their cousin’s baby. Or their little brother’s senior pictures—” You blinked at the confused round of his doe eyes, “—what could it hurt to try?”

After a second of silence and swatting your hand away to lick at the dried ice cream instead, “...well we’ll need examples.”

“Good thing we were just about to go to the park—” You gestured toward his camera bag, “—and that thing is virtually attached to you.”

Jeongguk gradually began to loosen, “You want to do this right now?”

You stood then, binning your virtually untouched sundae before reaching out for his mostly eaten treat. He shoved the last of the cone between his cheeks instead of handing it to you, puffed cheeks innocent as he handed you his mass of crumpled napkins to throw away instead before you were taking both his hands to pull him up.

“What better time than now?” You grinned when he cocked an eyebrow, still holding onto your hands, “C’mon. You can help me edit them tonight.”

Skeptical, “Okay…”

Jeongguk dropped one of your hands to reach for his camera, shrugging it messily over his shoulders while you squeezed the remaining appendage in your grasp, teasing, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to take a ton of pictures of me, anyway.”

You weren’t immune to the soft blush that spread outward from the center of his cheeks, chin dropping as he shouldered his way out of the nearby door, holding it open for you and when you skipped through he grumbled, “Shut up.”

You were fresh off a playful argument about whether he could arrange your hair into a halo of hearts around your head when it happened.

“Not possible,” You dismissed, a disguised threat as you glared up at him from your seated place on the grass. He stepped closer and you held up a steady palm, “Do not touch me or my hair.”

Jeongguk whined, fingers wrapped around his lens as he crouched, twirling and snapping a picture of your indignation. “At least lay down for me? The flowers look nice…”

“These are weeds—”

“Please?”

You obliged because the stars in his eyes told you to, falling backwards to the plush earth with an arm tucked behind your neck and a hefty sigh. He’d stepped between your legs, one foot at your knees and one at your hip as he craned, tongue in cheek in concentration until he mumbled, “I still think the hearts would look cool.”

“I thought you were good at this whole photography thing.”

You retracted into yourself before he could grab you, a shriek of laughter tumbling out of your lips even before his fingers curled into your sides and you flailed an absent foot at his stature squatted over you, chanting I’m sorry, stop! until Jeongguk relented to a messy sitting position next to you in a soft cloud of grass clippings and dust, camera plopped in his lap as he glared at you.

You rolled until you were perched on your elbows, reaching out your previously assaulting foot to prod the light denim on his thighs. When he cocked an eyebrow, you tried, “Any good ones?”

Without missing a beat, he hummed, “As good as we can get with that face of yours.”

“Hey!—”

The tiniest of smiles pressed the ghost of a dimple in Jeongguk’s cheek and he tossed his head, “Come here.”

An awkward waddle over and you were pressed into his side, cheek on his arm as he scrolled through the shots on the digital screen. It was something about his ability to capture shots at just the right moment in just the right lighting with just the right angle that elicited a feeling of fond within you, that even if you didn’t particularly like the squash of your chin between your neck or the way the wind had curled the material of your shirt around your torso, it was still a glimpse into how Jeongguk saw the world, saw you. A strange fuzziness bubbled to the tips of your fingers as he continued to scroll through his lens to what he perceived as your beauty, focused more on the gradual smile that grew higher on his teeth as he flipped past candid shots of you telling him off to staged shots of you perched on a park bench looking as skeptical as you could about the barking squirrel perched just out of frame above you.

“Good, don’t you think?” His fond faced you, further melting the numbness on the edge of your appendages to the entirety of your stature.

You relaxed into his so that your nod brushed against his bicep, afraid of what your face would say if you met his gaze and you mumbled, “Told you we didn’t need heart hair.”

“Hush,” Jeongguk’s screen went black as he set it gently on the cross of his ankles, leaning on his palms to accommodate your stature better, “Do you think we got plenty of examples?”

You continued to stare at his blank screen, skin warm on the fabric covering his arm and suddenly it happened when you blurted, “Let me take some of you.”

A possessive hand curled to obscure your view of the blank preview screen, shoulders jumping as he tried to laugh it off, “No, that’s okay.”

Chin on his shoulder, you dared to look at him and utter, “What? I’ll edit them. I mean, I know your face looks like that but that’s the beauty of technology.”

“My joke,” Jeongguk’s neck craned backward to observe you, smile flustered like the pink that had overtaken more of his cheeks, “...why do you want to?”

You shrugged, “You always take pictures of me. I just thought we could change it up—” You swallowed, “You know. For our business.”

“Ah, marketing technique, huh,” Slowly, he uncovered the device, flicking it back to life with a seasoned thumb as he was stretching it to place it softly on your thigh, “Okay, boss. Where do you want me?”

You’d used a camera before but something so expensive to the price tag but priceless to the wary man before you made it an extra weight in your palms, fumbling at first to get anything that wasn’t blurry. One of your first clear shots was after you’d shoved on broad shoulders until he was seated on a wooden bench, awkward and small at first until you sighed with the camera at your hip.

The exasperated relax that sighed from your lips opened up a new realm that had the strange bubbles from earlier lodging into the base of your throat when Jeongguk reclined, both arms framing the back of the bench and his legs flopped open, that slight crinkle to one edge of his nose still present until you slowly rose the camera and it erased into something effortlessly smug.

“I can’t...I can’t get it to focus.” For two reasons now.

Jeongguk nodded in seeming understanding and you had a hunch he didn’t entirely understand why but he patted the spot next to his thigh on the bench nonetheless. “Come here. Rest your elbow on this and then try. It’ll stabilize it a little bit more…”

You startled yourself and him when you bypassed the bench for his thigh, digging your elbow into the taut muscle as you pulled the camera to your face, catching his surprise first and then the slow smirk that melted back into his features, chin tilting as you got a few more shots before pulling your touch away.

The next set of shots was you frantically ordering him to stay like a dog until you’d jogged the proper distance away (Don’t trip! Watch my camera!) and motioned for him to walk to you. It was rigid at first, just as before, a little too fast and his face was on the edge of bursting into audible giggles. You continued to back away, holding up a palm for him to pause again and then you shouted, “Relax!” louder than before and more important.

There was an easy gait to his walk now, feet crossing as they stepped in front of each other, one hand finding the front pocket of his jeans as the oversized hang of his striped blue shirt crinkled at his thin waist. One hand dared to fluff at his hair, gaze going out to the occupants of the park rather than the desolate intersection to his other side and you couldn’t help but giggle at the unsure smile that crossed his lips immediately after the action.

Jeongguk settled for an easy saunter after that, one hand in his pocket, both in, both out, until you were tired of the clench of his jaw and you called over the raise of his device to the lower half of your face, “Hey! Are those yellow converse you’re wearing?”

He frowned at first, “What’s wrong with my yellow converse?” before breaking into a gentle grin, one that started at the crinkles around his eyes and traveled into the wide pull of his teeth as the easy swing of his steps stumbled into his louder laughter and you continued to click away all the same until he set his sights on you. Hunched back, rolled shoulders, arms comically splayed out behind him as he darted for you, a squeak of surprise leaving your lips and before you could think to hold onto his camera and run, he was on you, arms around your waist to direct his giggles directly over your ear.

The excitement died with gentle sways in the center of the sidewalk. Jeongguk continued to hold your hips as he pulled away, quieter now, “Do you think we have enough now?”

“Plenty,” You held his camera out to him until his grip was secure on it, prodding your index finger to the center of his chest, “Did you want to take anymore? I know you originally wanted to come because you had some ideas for your portfolio…”

He beamed, slightly apologetic in the slant of it on his lips, “It’s okay, we have all summer. I’m...kind of hungry anyway.”

“We just had ice cream!”

“We’ve been here for four hours.”

You eyed the time on your phone and then the dip of the sun behind some wisped clouds in the horizon. “Oh.”

“You’ll come with me another day, though?”

You patted Jeongguk’s chest instead of prodding it. “Of course, Guk.”

He plopped in beside you, two paper plates balanced between his long fingers and the curve of his wrist, each piled high in fresh slices of pizza. One plate was deposited to the coffee table beyond the sway of your ankles, the latter pulled over his thighs to begin happily munching at the toppings while you continued to hack at the keys on your laptop.

“Any progress?” Jeongguk leaned closer with grease stained lips, “Making us look good?”

You hummed, dragging your finger over your touchpad. Another notch down on contrast, another notch up on the chosen filter, some color correction, and lessening of shadows to compensate for the natural lighting.

“Trying my best. And…” You navigated to save the image on the screen, one of Jeongguk walking toward you with a hand in his pocket and an easy expression adorning his otherwise tentative features. “I’m done!”

He pouted, grease stained finger trailing to the screen, “You cut off my shoes.”

“I blame your camera,” You exited out of the program, pulling up your internet browser instead. You paused, the cursor blinking on the search engine and you turned to observe the fish of Jeongguk’s lips as he gnawed on another bite of pizza dough, “...do you really want me to post some of these?”

He dusted his fingers on the edge of his joggers, leaning closer until his cheek was smooshed against the crook of your elbow. “I mean, what can it hurt.”

You began to type then, slow in entering the cursed Facebook and you chatted as you typed, “Should we create an official page for the business and everything?”

“Absolutely we should,” Jeongguk made grabby hands at your laptop until you relented and let him pull it into the awkward curl of his lap. His eyebrows furrowed at the first post on your feed, the same Yoongi Area 51 meme that continued to fester in your feed because Taehyung couldn’t and wouldn’t stop commenting on it and his tongue sandwiched in his molars with further confusion, doe eyes scanning down the length of the screen until the tip of your nail pointed him in the right direction.

Jeongguk hesitated again on the first question. Name.

“Uh…”

“I got it,” You leaned your head against his, softly, “Dare to Begin…”

Dare to begin a new semester that neither of you knew if you could properly pay for. Dare to begin a summer of trying to figure out how to pay for that semester. Dare to begin a new semester by some miracle and then what (figure it out when you get there, survive) with a major you adored and a major he did because photography wasn’t a viable career option. Dare to begin a friendship with someone who photographed the world like the beauty he saw it in but photographed you like he was in love with the world because you existed in it.

Dare to begin a new business on Facebook, of all things.

He wrinkled his nose, “I was just going to go with Flash Fiends or something.”

“Oh, come on,” You reasoned your prior thoughts to something that wouldn’t cause suspicion of your sentiments, “Dare to begin, like weddings? They’re beginning their journey with us. Senior pictures? Beginning a journey. Baby pictures? Again...beginning a long life journey—”

“You’re serious about this?” Jeongguk had already typed Flash Fiends in the name box and you squeaked in indignation.

“I guess not,” Suddenly bashful, “I just thought it was creative…”

“It is,” You blinked and he’d navigated through three other windows before he was typing dare to begin with Flash Fiends as the opening line in the description box. He hacked away some more, a generic description and you equally agreed to put prices in the album with the pictures of the two of you. Another jam of his pinky into the enter key and he lifted up off your side to hand you your laptop back. “There! Okay, now do your thing.”

Doing your thing included dragging all the files into an album, adding searchable hashtags, making the post public, choosing to set the last photo of Jeongguk you’d edited as the cover photo. A couple more clicks to make the post, navigating to share it onto your profile and dropping a tag of his profile and, “My thing is done.”

He took your laptop from you to replace it with the extra plate of pizza, sliding the remote into his hand in the same movement and flicking on the television. “Now,” He gestured solemnly to the litter of devices in front of you, both your phones and the still open laptop, “We wait.”

You remembered two of the share notifications before you dozed off underneath the cozy puff of Jeongguk’s duvet and the heavy weight of his arm draped across your waist. One from Yoongi, an oh so serious I’m going to help my friends! share that included the obligatory you’re very talented, Guk-ah! I’d love to have you shoot Holly one day...comment. One from Taehyung, a less than serious share that included a string of laughing emojis solely on the image of Jeongguk lounging seriously on the wooden park bench.

The notification you most definitely did not remember was the email from Kim Enterprises titled internship inquiry.

You crawled from Jeongguk’s embrace to snatch your laptop, afraid to pull the email up on the tiny screen of your phone in fear you were reading it wrong. The light off the screen roused him from his sleep before your suddenly-not-tired-anymore gasp did.

“What? What’s wrong?” He misjudged the search of his hand for you, gently sliding across your cheek instead of your arm like he’d been aiming but you barely flinched, covering your lips with both hands instead.

“This can’t be real,” The words muffled through your fingers before they were in action again, highlighting the email address and jamming it into the search engine.

“I’m not following you…”

“To be honest,” You clicked on the first result of the search, another gasp raw in your throat when the website, that website, emerged, “Me either.”

“B-Bloom?” Jeongguk squinted at the screen, turning your laptop towards the sleep still coating the fringe stuck in his eyelashes, “What is Bloom?”

“A magazine. An extremely popular magazine.”

He brushed your fingers out of the way to navigate back to the tab with your email on it, squinting at the address, “Why did an extremely popular magazine email you?”

“Let me read this email to you, Guk.”

“I can read—”

“Greetings owner of Flash Fiends. We were extremely intrigued by the contents of your recent business inquiry not for the service at hand but rather the individual seen in some of the photos. The social media entity tagged him as Jeon Jeongguk, and if that is the identity of this individual, we’d be interested in signing him—” You paused, swallowing half your tongue and holding a singular finger up as you inhaled audible through your nose, “—for a summer modeling internship in the interest of some of our newest summer spreads, paid of course. If that is something that would be of interest to you, please reply to this email with an updated resume and we will be in touch. Thank you again, and we look forward to hearing from you. Park Jimin, Department Head of Kim fucking Enterprises and Bloom fucking Inc.”

There was a passing moment of silence, some shifting as Jeongguk fell back into the sheets with his pillow curled in his bare arm and he mumbled, “I told you Flash Fiends was an incredible name.”

“Jeongguk! Did you hear me?”

He hummed, “I saw it, too.”

“And? They want to pay you! This is the perfect opportunity to earn the money you need for next semester!”

When he was silent for a frightening second, you shut your laptop and shucked it to the floor, turning until you were facing him. You’d barely settled when a tiny, forced smile was dimpling into his cheeks. “I’m not going without you,” He tried to provide and you frowned.

“Uhm, yes you absolutely are.”

“I’m not a model, babe.”

“You’re entirely more attractive than you give yourself credit for,” You blinked at him, soft fingers subconsciously reaching to stroke wavy tresses from his gaze, “Come on. What could it hurt to try?”

“You said that about the photography business idea, too, and now look where we are,” He flushed under your touch between his eyebrows, “Besides, are you going to run that alone if I leave?”

You bypassed his sarcasm, “We’re in a place where you could get that money you need for next semester. One step closer to graduation. And all you’d have to do is pose for some pictures. They’ll probably pay for your housing and shit too—”

“Okay, but I’m still not going without you,” You waited on Jeongguk to exhale through his nose, considering something over the top of your head before elaborating, “...if I’m going to try this, you’re going with me. Just like the photography business.” Just like everything.

“You need a resume first.”

“And you need some sort of skill that goes hand in hand with a famous model—” He beamed, “—like yours truly.”

“Fuck off—”

“You could be my assistant.”

“Fuck off twice.”

“What about my stylist?” Jeongguk let the suggestion hang in the air for a second before teasing, “Your eyeliner looks half decent sometimes.”

“And does any part of you genuinely think I want to go with you at this point—”

“We also need someone to fake these resumes for us—” His features wrinkled up, “—can we get arrested for that? Should I apologize to my FBI agent now?”

You ignored him, instead saying simply, “Taehyung.”

The software engineer blinked at you past artificial blue, the light coating the dyed grey locks that parted in all the right places around the circumference of his head, baggy flannel wrapped around his knuckles that drummed absently into his desk.

“So...you were serious about that Facebook post?”

“Not really, but—” You exchanged a glance with Jeongguk, “—now we kind of are.”

Taehyung spun slowly in his desk chair, making one full rotation until he pondered, “So, let me get this straight. You want me to fake resumes for the two of you so that you can get a paid internship at Bloom, aka, one of the biggest fashion magazines in the country, because they somehow, through the power of the internet, found your half-joking, half-serious photoshoot and want to sign the amateur model that is Jeon Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk exchanged a glance with you this time, “Correct.”

The older boy blinked, once, twice, four times before shrugging, pushing sleeves up to his elbows as he dug bare heels into the floor, dragging himself closer to the computer to begin hacking away. The blue light turned white and he mumbled, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Twenty minutes later you were sitting across from Taehyung at his tiny dining table with a manila folder in hand containing two pieces of paper, stapled together neatly in the corner, and printed with thick ink you were almost afraid to touch. The man across from you sucked noisily on coffee from a Pikachu themed mug, taking a massive bite from a chocolate energy bar in the same movement and he spoke through the crumbs gathering on the corners of his lips, “I think you’ll find those sufficient.”

You ignored Jeongguk’s flat out whine at the contents of his papers, gleeing, “Oh, good thinking, Tae. I’ll absolutely take credit for RM’s cheekbones in the Seoul music video.”

“Wait—” Jeongguk placed his hand on your arm until he could drag your fake resume close enough to scan it. Another whine, high pitched and through slanted eyebrows and pouted lips, “—why do you get to be attached to Namjoon?”

“Your crush is showing.”

“At least yours doesn’t say you were a former foot model!”

You couldn’t suppress the snort in your throat, gently prying the wrinkled papers from Jeongguk’s death grip to confirm that Taehyung did, in fact, write that Jeongguk had an impressive track record of modeling for various small shoe companies with posters plastered in every massive mall on the south side of the country.

“Why—”

“Because you can’t see your face, dumbass,” Taehyung finished the bar in hand in two bites, shucking the wrapper into a pile of various other trash on the edge of his dining table, “It’s easier to fake if they do check references. What do you think they’re going to do, pull your socks off to check?”

“There’s approximately a million other parts of my body that aren’t my face.”

“Not quite a million…”

“Anyway,” You flattened both your resumes to the table, tapping on the section that said references with a singular reference, “What is this phone number?”

“Mine,” Another energy bar had materialized from somewhere and the wrapper was loudly crinkling in Taehyung palm as he shrugged into another bite, “I’m your manager now.”

“There’s no way this is going to work.”

“This will work,” He took another swig from his mug and when something like a belch rumbled in his throat you figured out that it wasn’t coffee but something carbonated, “What? Do you not have any trust in me?”

You fiddled in the backseat of the cab, the seat belt too tight on your shoulder and digging into that spot on your neck the more you shifted. You tore your gawking gaze away from the city skyline trailing along outside the window to Jeongguk prodding at his thigh with your index finger.

“You think they’ve called Taehyung yet?”

“If they haven’t yet they’re probably not going to,” His chin swiveled from the window to look at you, gently taking the nervous tap of your hand into his palm and holding it in his lap, “They’ve already said we’re in. We’re already here. It’s okay.”

You were silent through another stop sign and the anger of honking traffic over the soft radio before you uttered, “So Taehyung must be some kind of wizard, then.”

Jeongguk’s palm caught on the back of the driver’s seat when the brakes slammed again, offering you another gentle smile as his thumb swiped over your knuckles, “Evidently.”

“We’re here,” The driver informed you over the ambiance of unmoving traffic and screeching tires, holding out an expectant hand for Jeongguk to jam a wad of cash into before he was pulling you out onto the sidewalk after him.

Backpacks on and suitcases barely lifted over the lip of the trunk of the cab before he was speeding away off the curb in a rare moment of serenity on the street. Your easy going shrug in Jeongguk’s direction was short lived until you turned toward the building in question, your building for the next few months, nonchalant turning to ice even as summer heat burned through the fabric of the hoodie you’d adorned since five am that morning at the airport.

A skyscraper was the easiest way to explain it in layman's terms, towering endless stories high so it almost appeared to curve and sway into the flecks of clouds skimming through the blue sky. It seemed to be made entirely of windows, tinted enough and if you squinted, covered in elegant curtains or outlined with towering succulents in molted clay pots. The front door was sliding glass, accented in gold like the name plate jutting out in an awning over a massive outdoor rug with the same name and logo etched in a shag of the same hue. The longer you gaped, the more people entered or exited through the very glass doors, ingraining the soft mechanical hum they made into the forefront of your conscious along with the polished leather shoes and designer purses and singular wedding bands that likely costs more than you would pay in tuition for four years combined.

“This can’t be it,” You panicked from Jeongguk’s arm again, finding it to dig your fingernails into and turn back onto the street, frantically trying to catch sight of your long gone taxi driver but the street had filled in your moment of disbelief and all shades of yellow and orange began to look the same. “Surely we told him the wrong address.”

“Babe,” He didn’t move his arm so as not to startle you, wincing the further your nails curled into his skin but gentle in his call nonetheless, “Baby, hey—” His eyes trekked the jump of your throat as you swallowed, finally meeting his eye contact, “—let’s just go inside. The worst they can tell us is no.”

They didn’t tell you no but the look from the receptionist told you to be self conscious of the joggers shrunk just above your ankles and the tattered edges of the hoodie curled around your knuckles that curled your skin anemic into the handle of your suitcase while Jeongguk easily chatted through her questions and paperwork, confirming that yes, you were the guests of Kim Enterprise. When you uttered purple to his under the breath pick a color inquiry, you didn’t expect it to be for a spiraling wrist band with a shiny metal key attached to one end, an end that pressed into the pulse point on your wrist. He turned from the desk, a folder in hand and a matching blue band on his wrist, one he shook at you so that the key twisted softly underneath the massive crystal chandelier taunting the space above the front desk.

“We’re on the tenth floor,” He seemed entirely too at ease in the drape of his oversized crew neck and baggy joggers over open-toed sandals amongst luxuries like a jar of pens perched on the edge of the front counter you commended him for grabbing because the shiny ballpoints seemed to be carved of the same, close-to-real gold accented every inch of the building. He flicked his head again, soft bangs bouncing, and you were left to stumble after his stature until his advancements had to pause for a tall man in a matching tracksuit walking a happy looking doberman from the direction that you smelled chlorine.

“Does this place have a pool?” You whispered with your hands braced between his shoulder blades, waiting until the man was out of sight to navigate for the elevators.

Jeongguk waited until he stabbed the button, stepping back to jostle the folder in hand to squint at one of the pages. “Looks like it—” His eyes glinted for a second, “—and a full gym!”

He continued chattering about the amenities while you stepped onto the elevator, listing off the various delivery services that would come to the front lobby versus the ones that would bring it to your door, only pausing through a rant about what the in house cafe coffee cost when you jammed the key on your wrist into the lock of the apartment, your apartment, and pushed the door open.

Jeongguk mirrored your panicked thoughts from earlier when he let go of the handle of his suitcase, causing the lopsided storage to tumble to the hardwood below. He articulated it next, “This can’t be it. There has to be a mistake. We’re in the wrong apartment or something—”

“Guk,” You comforted him with a hand on his hip, “Our keys wouldn’t have worked if this wasn’t the right place. They wouldn’t have called us by name at the front desk…”

You followed the awe of his gaze as it tilted upward and in swivel, taking in the muted caramel hardwood glossed underneath fluffy white rugs and hues of blue leather furniture, similar wood color to the floor marking that of the cabinets and tables nailed to walls or pushed into corners, accent pieces and fake flowers doused in blacks and whites sprinkled throughout the various nooks. The windows you’d noticed from the street stretched out in the opposite direction from where you’d came in, allowing you a view not of the street but through the city, a birds eye view through buildings taller and shorter than your own, some close enough to theoretically touch and others just an unworldly as they would be from ground level. Thin black curtains swayed from gold accented rods, a result of the white ceiling fan and the chill of air conditioning seeping out through various vents pressed into the crown molding of the rippled ceiling. A staircase marked the far corner, spiraling upward into an open concept hallway that disappeared into another handful of doors, the wood a slightly darker shade than that on the floor but the railing coated in a curved gold metal.

He swayed next to you and when he shuffled forward, you registered that he’d stepped out of his sandals, picking his feet up like prolonged contact would dirty the immaculate condition. He’d no much as peeked around the corner, the curve of broad shoulders a sliver in your peripheral, when a noise of surprise came high pitched from him.

You peeled off your tennis shoes by the heels, taking long steps until you were behind him. In the kitchen, an open concept room marked onto by the black marble bar that made an L shape to the hum of shining appliances.

“The lights are motioned censored,” Jeongguk provided at a breath and the two of you were still enough in silence that they flicked off. You moved to test his theory, flailing a hand out and frosted globes curled into the ceiling in threes illuminated once more.

You stepped around him, hardwood trailing into slick white tile and you nearly stumbled into the edge of the countertop when you tried to step for the neatly folded triangle of paper perched in the center next to a bowl of fresh fruit. You plucked it into your grasp, not without dislodging a yellow apple that rolled a few paces across the specks of silver shining through in the countertop, using your thumb to smooth out the creases to squint at the printed type.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Jeongguk uttered finally, still rooted in place but slumped against the wall.

You flipped the paper over, “Apparently heading to the agency for a meeting with Park Jimin.”

His eyes closed, feet shuffling until his entire back was pressed into the wall, “I knew that. They said that in the confirmation email. I meant—”

“—we can figure out what to do with this place when we get back. We need to get ready,” You glanced at him, “I mean, you can go in our airport clothes but I’d rather...not.”

“Right…” Jeongguk squinted, eyes trailing over your shoulder to the nestled staircase as he pushed himself up off the wall, “You think the bedrooms are up there?”

You frowned, “Why not just change down here?”

“On account of giant ass windows and thin curtains I don’t entirely trust yet,” His voice echoed to you no matter where he ventured into the house, going first to snatch his fallen suitcase and then secondly making his way for the ascend.

You almost tripped trying to collect your own bag, heaving by the time you caught his stature on the stairs and he turned to you with an amused cock of his eyebrow. “Coming with?”

“Don’t leave me down there alone,” You countered, shoving at his waist, “Too big for me to be by myself. This makes my dorm look like a thimble.”

Jeongguk laughed, a soft sound as his feet hit the next level, glancing down each hallway and then at you. It was an unspoken race until your coiled muscles jumped the opposite direction, meandering into bedrooms at each end of the upper level. You heard his cackles grow louder from within the first door your reached and your conscious had just began to affirm the same thing he yelled to you, “These are fucking huge too!”

A massive queen bed with a white duvet and two white blankets neatly folded at the end, two white wicker rocking chairs, a white throw rug peeking out from underneath the bed frame, white tile in an en suite bathroom like that in the kitchen cut off where the slightly darker wood floor began.

You dropped your suitcase unceremoniously in the threshold, picking your feet like Jeongguk had been before as you dug into the top pouch of the bag to retrieve a different outfit. Three splashes of water to your cheeks and a struggle with a jean button confirmed you were very much still alive and you dared to wander out into the hallway after a fight with an automatic sink faucet.

There was one more bedroom half the size of the one you’d claimed on your side of the hall, one you inspected with a quiet hum, dragging the door shut behind you as your sweeping steps brought you back outside. The false sense of serenity your anxious mind had calmed you into immediately erased when there was a figure standing at the head of the stairs, forcing a scream from your lips.

“It’s me—” But it didn’t look like Jeongguk, not the Jeongguk you were used to anyway. Neatly pressed black slacks falling neatly around his ankles, a black baggy top that curled into his elbows with vertical blue stripes cutting down the surface of the fabric, the material tugged and cinched with a thin belt at the point of his thin waist, new jewelry curled over his exposed wrists and collarbones and fingers, hair slightly damp and parted effortlessly.

“What the fuck?” You barked.

He glanced down at his shirt, picking at one of the loose buttons and then finally deciding to do it up, a muted, “Does this look okay?” catching in his throat when you rushed for him, catching his wrists and quickly undoing his previous action. He was flushed harsh at the neck when you glanced up at him, sheepish in the smile that crossed the own heat flaming through your stature.

“Yes,” You affirmed, “You look great, but…”

“But—”

“Aren’t I supposed to do your hair?”

Jeongguk blinked at the pink in his cheeks worsened. “Yeah, I was thinking…” He seemed to wince but you knew it as embarrassment, “Maybe you could curl it for me some time? More of a wave than what’s naturally there...you know.”

You eyed one of the wispy strands that swayed out over the top of his ear, not included in the wet swipe of his brush through his tresses.

“What do I look like?” You teased, grabbing his wrist to tug him down the stairs two at a time, “Your stylist?”

“Jeon Jeongguk and…” The man behind the counter trailed off, reading your name a bit quieter from the front of a blue file folder with a raised eyebrow. You nodded with a smile nonetheless, nudging Jeongguk who was still fixated on an oak tree sized fern resting in front of the sleek wall beyond the counter.

“Perfect,” His chair clicked across the plastic mat underneath the wheels, head disappearing into a file cabinet before returning with two laynards. He passed them across the desk, blank ID badges encased in thick plastic sleeves that would earn you clearance. “Your headshot will accompany the ID—” He was addressing Jeongguk point blank, “—once you take an appropriate one. Company protocol.”

Jeongguk passed you one lanyard, untangling his absently and he inquired softly, “...when will those be taken?”

The man frowned, “In just a few moments? Were you not aware?”

“I thought we had a meeting scheduled with Park Jimin,” You drew the man’s attention to you, stretching the lanyard around your neck.

“Oh, you do,” He smiled, “His meeting is running late, so we’re going to send you to the studio first.”

“We weren’t prepared for a shoot…” Jeongguk tucked his own badge over his neck.

The man willingly addressed you this time, smile tight lipped as an obnoxious office phone began to ring behind him, “Well, I’m sure your extremely talented stylist will be able to make you presentable from the shoulders up, yes?”

You swallowed, “Absolutely.”

“Perfect. The studio is down the hall to the left. Follow the signs posted on the wall,” More plastic wheels clicking across the floor and the ringing silenced as he placed the speaker against his shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me. Hello, Kim Enterprises—”

“Hey,” Jeongguk nudged you as you trailed down the mentioned hallway, squinting at an array of plastic signs drilled in a row on the wall. He tripped when you abruptly turned, pointing to direct him instead but he just nudged you again, “You can try out the whole curling my hair thing a bit sooner than expected.”

You dared to glance away from the scattered map in your brain to the shag of his locks of his eyebrows, ones that had already begun to dry and scrunch into soft waves. “Yeah,” You nodded, nudging him in the direction of the arrow for headshot studio, “Maybe.”

There was a woman stationed outside one of the open doorways, absently scrolling through her phone and she jerked when you approached, pocketing her phone in a messy fumble. “Ah, hello!” She greeted, and you rushed for the plastic at your chest to flip it over to display your name. “You must be the new duo...Jeongguk and—” She squinted at your name, uttering it too. “—perfect!” Soft curls bounced around her shoulders and when she turned you were knocked backward by the overwhelming smell of vanilla, but it faded like her figure into the room. “If you’ll follow me…”

The room opened into rows of empty makeup counters, bright lights burning hot over the top of walls half coated in mirrors. A few of the chairs were pulled out, like they’d been used earlier in the day, and some spare makeup bags were left sprawled with the products rolled onto the white counters. The woman was standing in a far corner at a clean counter aside from a neatly packaged makeup bag, a hair dryer, and a curling iron with the cord wrapped neatly around it’s head.

“I think you’ll find this sufficient,” She chirped in reference to the items at the table. She pulled out the chair, just for extra measure. “If not, there are extra of everything in the cabinet on the far side of the room. If the skin tone is not correct, your welcome to any of the others, as well. This bag is yours for the duration of your stay so I recommend keeping it stocked so you do not waste time before shoots.”

“Other than that, have fun!” Her hand centered between Jeongguk’s shoulder blades, pushing until he followed her unspoken lead and collapsed into the chair. “Come across the hall when you’re prepared. I’ll notify our photographer of your arrival.”

He stared at you through the mirror until she’d slipped out of the room and then some, finally uttering slow and gentle, “Uh. So, what are you going to do to me?”

You decided to place your fingers in his hair to calm yourself in the slightest, fluttering the strands in both palms, and even your teasing was absent, “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to fix this—”

“Should you start with makeup?”

Both your gazes absently trailed to the rolled up black bag and your gradual nod came before your steps trailed to the opposite side of his chair. “I’m not going to do much…” You rambled while you discarded a liquid foundation that was a shade too light for Jeongguk for a powder one that appeared to match. “You don’t need it…”

You shook some of the substance into a tray, marveling at a clean powder brush before jabbing the soft end into the pile of dust curled in your palm. Your nose wrinkled when you moved for him, using your free hand to nudge his bangs out of the way before your internal monolog told you fuck it and the same stabbing motion became the end of the brush into the center of Jeongguk’s nose.

He spluttered and you panicked when the fallout of the clumped dust spread below to the black fabric of his shirt. “That how you do it, huh?” He spoke through powdered stained lips and you frowned, spreading it up and over his cheekbones.

“Close enough,” You finished evening out the powder before dropping the brush, reaching to dust at his shirt instead. He let you, waiting until you’d dulled the color into soft, barely there blots along the surface of his chest and watching with rapt attention as you straightened, settling curled fists onto your hips with a huff.

“I think that’s enough makeup.”

“It’s just powder.”

“Exactly. You can’t even tell it’s there—” Jeongguk gestured to the drying and fraying mop on his head before sanctioning his hands underneath his thighs again, like you’d bite him if he moved while you worked, “—now fix my hair.”

You unraveled the cord, plugging it into the row of outlets lining the far wall before stretching the warming end of the iron toward Jeongguk’s face so quick he ducked, an attempt to loosen the perpetual frown that was carving a discolored circle into your bottom lip from the harsh suction of your teeth into the plush substance. When it didn’t work, he rounded his lips and blew upward so that the section of hair you feathered into your fingers fluttered out of your grasp. You cracked a smile then, dropping the curling iron to your side and you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Behave.”

He giggled, a soft sound that matched the crinkle of his powdered covered nose and his hands went back to being stiff underneath his legs. “Yes, ma’am.”

If it weren’t hard enough teaching yourself to curl short strands of hair on someone else, it was worse that the someone was Jeongguk, wide eyes coated in celestial bodies peering quietly up at you, a soft encouragement paired with tender giggles when you cursed. You nudged at the last strand, waving it over the tip of his right ear and you leaned back against the counter to inspect your work.

It was his expression that faltered you now, an absent fondness that stared deep into your gaze when you met the very things that could rival any planetarium and you stuttered, “I-I think I’m done?”

“It looks good,” Jeongguk leaned forward to confirm, squinting at himself in the mirror, fixing a few strands to his liking and then he added a bit slower, “We can practice…”

A squeak left your lips and you went to cover your face because we can practice meant it wasn’t that good, but you weren’t allowed to wallow in it for long when two hands wrapped around your wrists, prying your cover away and drawing you closer until you were all but leaning over Jeongguk.

“It’s okay,” More absent swiping to your knuckles and the freckle on the center of his bottom lip prominent when dimples pressed into his cheeks, “Ready?”

You let yourself smile, “You’re the model here, Guk.”

His headshots developed instantly and were sprawled in massive print sizes on the grain of Jimin’s desk, a glaring documentation of Jeongguk’s first professional shoot, your first time curling his hair, and the endearing little smile he allowed to adorn a sliver of his teeth. But even if you found it endearing, Park Jimin’s cross expression seemed to suggest the opposite.

“Are these the ones you chose?” He mused, dragging a finger across the thing white space framing one of the photos. It was a pre-teeth smile, pulled lip dimpling the freckle on his chin, nose a second away from wrinkling at you flipping him off behind the scenes.

Jeongguk considered his affirmation as a failure and it showed in the way it slid off his tongue, “...yes?”

Another handful of heartbeats into Jimin’s silence and Jeongguk uttered, “I mean...uh. T-they probably would look a little better if you’d adjust your umbrella lights. Or, you know, purchase new ones. They seem to be out of date. And are worsening the contrast—”

A second longer and Jimin shrugged, effectively cutting off Jeongguk’s rambles, and he gripped the edge of the photograph instead, sliding it into a neat pile with the others. They were quickly slipped into a folder, one he passed aside to make room for intertwined fingers in the center of his desk.

“They’ll suffice for now,” Thin eyes studied you fully now, disregarding the hunch of Jeongguk’s shoulders in the chair next to you, snake like black peering out from beyond bleached blonde fringe, “...can I ask who you are?”

“His stylist.”

“Name?” You uttered it and Jimin nodded, leaning back into the plush back of his chair. “So is there a reason you’re here…?”

“I think I’ll need to know about Jeongguk’s future endeavors here if I’m going to, essentially, be responsible for his look—” You ignored the dry texture cracking at your tongue on the roof of your mouth with each new syllable, all the moisture instead clamming your palms that roughed out of sight on your thighs, “—don’t you think?”

He seemed impressed with that answer, two hands threading at the nape of his neck to let plush lips quirk with the raise of one eyebrow. “I think you may be correct,” Jimin drawled slowly, “You may stay.”

You bit down the sarcastic thanks for the permission because he was done targeting you, testing you, instead focusing his attention back on Jeongguk. The man fell forward again, dragging his chair closer with two hands between the languid part of his thighs before they transferred to rest on the round, plastic arms.

“It’s a relatively simple internship. We already have you booked for some very specific shoots for our advertisements and the main magazine alike. I’ll email you a calendar, but for now—” Fluffy blonde locks disappeared from view before he resurfaced with a highlighted piece of paper in hand, slapping it the table and pushing it until it fluttered at Jeongguk. “—you’ll see your shoots highlighted in pink. Anything else you need to attend is in yellow. Meetings, check ins, things of that nature.”

Jeongguk still seemed like a fish out of water so you leaned toward him and questioned, “And the green color?”

“Retreats, bonding opportunities. Things of that nature,” Something genuine sparked in the smile on Jimin’s face as he glanced at you, “Seokjin is very into the team aspect of our company. You’re welcome to any of them, assuming you have the time between other schedules.”

Jeongguk still hadn’t spoke, drilling a hole into the paper, so Jimin took the social cue to inquire, “Any other questions?”

You were about to wonder about the glaring pink and yellow overlap for the Monday of the upcoming work week when Jeongguk spoke, firm and assuring as he glanced up.

“I understand I’m here for modeling, but I’m extremely interested in photography. Independent and contracted, studio and otherwise. The times between schedules, would I be able to shadow some of your techs? Just for...the experience?”

Jimin barely faltered at the hopeful fidget of Jeongguk’s fingers in his lap, “I don’t believe we have the opening nor the time for that kind of request. I’ll check for you, but I wouldn’t count on anything.”

Translation, don’t ask questions, do what you’re here for.

“So,” Jimin was still chatting as he pushed himself off his chair, back arching into a stretch, “We’ll see you Monday morning for the cover shoot?”

You froze into standing, the hand you were about to offer to Jeongguk consulting the chair you perched in as a vice as your knuckles bled anemic into your bone, “Excuse me...the what?”

“The cover shoot,” Jimin blinked as though that should be common knowledge to two rookie interns, “Seokjin recruited you with this concept in mind. You’ll be on the front cover of the next issue of Bloom.”

More silence that Jimin was unaware to, moving around the side of his desk to make it to a row of towering file cabinets in the corner. He had the folder of Jeongguk’s headshots in hand, filtering it with careful thumbs even when you uttered a half octave softer, “Can we know what the concept is?”

Jimin smiled, the answer obvious as the mentioned cabinet rebounded audibly into a magnet placed on the inside of black metal.

“They’ll be happy to explain it to you in your pre-shoot meeting Monday.”

“What if we’re doing all this—” Jeongguk winced for the fifteenth time when you lowered the curling wand to another strand of black, “—and it’s a shoot for my feet.”

You resisted the urge to accidentally let the edge of the iron graze his cheek in the unwind from the soft wave of his tress. You shifted where you perched on the marble, letting your thighs fall further apart for his waist to lean against the edge of the counter. With a hand on his shoulder, you pushed until his eyes trained on you, slightly sheepish, slightly shameless, entirely endearing and you sighed at the last attribute.

“You think they’d put a whole ass foot on the cover of Bloom?” When he whined, you reached for another, untouched piece of hair, twisting and pressing it to the heat, “Nothing else. Just a foot. Maybe some scandalous ankle—”

Jeongguk pinched your thigh, “You’re mean.”

“This meanie can let you style your own hair and look like that on a magazine that everyone on campus is definitely going to see,” You ducked until he met your gaze again, serious despite the upward curve of your lips, “How mean am I now?”

“You’re not,” He grumbled, glancing off to the side, “You’re the best.”

“Thought so,” You let the curling iron teeter to its stand on the counter, bracing your hands on either side of you to inspect your work, “I...think we’re done.”

You resisted the urge to scream when Jeongguk ruffled searching fingers through the front, letting the styled strands fluff outward in the carefully done part you’d established with a complementary pen you’d found in a drawer in the kitchen. He arm fell limply to his side, latter tucked firmly in the unzipped pocket of his joggers and he looked at you from the winced corners of his eyes, “Does it look okay?”

You were gentle in pinched his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning his head so doe eyes were peering at your from the center of their endearing glory, but your lips fished and you hummed in Park Jimin fashion, “I mean, it’s still your face, but from what I have to work with—”

“That’s still my joke and it’s not funny anymore.”

You surprised Jeongguk and yourself when you used your grip on him to lean forward, feathering your lips to the center of his cheek, drawing a natural shade into the artificial blush you’d rubbed in light doses to his skin. “You look great, Guk,” To amend the tingle lingering on your lips, you added, “Only be, like, three-fourths as nervous as you were before.”

He disappeared from between your legs and was six steps up the spiral staircase to retrieve his bag when he managed to choke out a less than threatening, “I’ll leave your ass here alone.”

You hopped down from the counter, shuffling through the apartment to retrieve your key still stuck to its spiraling purple bracelet next to your phone that set on a charger attached to an extension cord (fatal flaw of the millions invested in the apartment: outlets placed in inept locations) when you heard two footsteps behind you, a descend on the staircase, and then a long pause.

And then, “...do you think I should change shoes just in case it is of my feet—”

You were lost on one end of a long conference table while eight experienced professionals chattered on the likes of composition and aesthetics and ambiance and the vision of the newest issue, a list of words that meant similar but different things in the digital world with the manipulation of graphics at the tips of your fingers and you were more entertained with the aesthetic of the swirl of auburn color bubbling upward in your coffee when you stirred it with the tiny black straw. You were seemingly forgotten among the bustle that ended the meeting, a cattle like usher toward the singular door when the room was barely filled anyway and you found yourself hopeless in a room three times the size of the previous one with equipment you didn’t understand, more terminology you couldn’t grasp, and an entire missing Jeongguk.

The woman from your check in was back, bringing you your makeup back with a disapproving tut, ushering you with the heel of her palm on the small of your back toward a tiny collection of tables in the corner of the studio, a shortened version of the one you’d been in the day before, and you found it all but occupied by a new set of strangers.

You nudged the roll of your bag into the only empty spot, turning in time with the soft hush that met the other individuals milling about your general vicinity and you squinted because oh god, what now?

Words like alluring, sensual, lithe could all be replaced with much simpler adjectives, one in particular that struck bluntly at the forefront of your conscious, one you wished to express to the various shoot executives mulling over a concept they could easily direct in a hands on fashion without needing a briefing. You’d thought that into the swirl of your coffee and you assumed the cloud of cream that had surfaced, breaking into various puzzle pieces outward toward the rim of the cup agreed with you.

You understood why the bolded letters of various synonyms taking up a bullet point list on two pages of an outline, a waste of space and trees, was needed because your crude, one bullet wasn’t enough to encompass the entirety of Jeongguk’s being as he made his way toward you.

All eyes were trained on the rookie subject of the shoot but he was focused on you, a soft excuse me to the woman standing in front of you as he shouldered around her to tower over you. It was Jeongguk, your Jeongguk, but you felt some fraction of what everyone else did with him that close looking like that.

Tight jeans ripped in strategic places hugging taut thighs, cuffs buttoned loosely on relaxed knuckles, a sheer black shirt coated in metallic specks tucked neatly at the cinch of his lithe waist and secured in an equal V to the dip of defined collarbones. His hair was like you’d left it but frayed from the heat and softening from the lack of product, parting more on one side than the other and flopping into his eyes that blinked curiously at you.

“Hey...hello—” Jeongguk snapped his fingers, waving his hand so you felt the brush of his palm on your nose, “—did you hear me?”

The neanderthal corner of your conscious had enough sensibility to not utter what you wanted, instead bypassing his inquiry to all but shout, “Where are your other clothes?”

“They’re...in the dressing room? With my other things?” Someone yelled something you didn’t quite catch but the slide of Jeongguk’s palm down your elbow suggested he did, “Look, they sent me to you for a last minute check. Do I fit whatever concept they were talking about?”

Your subtly was forgotten, buried by the singular word that continued to expand into your thoughts, likely dilating your pupils the same way and the culprit of the saliva that pooled back by your molars.

Graphic design didn’t mean you were above putting size seventy-two Comic Sans font onto a document to print and plaster everywhere but even Comic Sans wasn’t worthy of whatever the concept was Jeongguk embodied. Nonetheless, you let the muted scream in your throbbing head takeover.

“You look sexy, Guk.”

He flushed at his neck first, traveling around to dip into his chest but it didn’t crack at the clench of his jaw this time, something lingering in the flash of black in his irises and his throat jumped, fingers curling over your arm and you briefly forgot where you were until someone’s stature was intentionally bumping into Jeongguk’s side, breaking his grasp on you to shove him in the opposite direction.

“Shooting in five.” You felt like you were underwater, coherent enough only to register you can’t see lightening under the sea (the flash of a camera) and you were fairly certain you’d been pitched off the edge of Atlantis when you came to enough to realize the prior five was up and they’d created a makeshift “wall” (a piece of plywood coated in white plastic) for Jeongguk (the, very sexy, “model”) to lounge against with his hands shoved into his pockets.

Part of Jeongguk’s shirt had come untucked from his belt, fluttering at the apex of his thigh, and it made your fingers itch to fix it until words of encouragement from the photographers elicited him to lift the arm on that side, palm smoothing down the back of his head until he found comfort in threading long digits into wavy tendrils. The sensible part of your brain moved to fire the necessary neurons to be annoyed that he’d just touched his hair again, hair you’d practiced on all weekend, burning yourself four times and the sheets of the unoccupied bedroom of the apartment once.

But the feral cloud in your conscious won and you chose to focus on the sliver of his waist that appeared instead.

You continued to eye it as he approached you again, sensibility pouting when you didn’t acknowledge that his sweat had smeared some of his carefully applied eyeliner or the lackluster gloss left on his lips wrapped around the ribbed edge of a water bottle, by passing all of those things in favor of his neck as it jumped and gulped.

Jeongguk pulled off the water bottle with a labored breath and the only thing familiar in his stature was the slight slouch toward you, gentle fingers brushing past your wrist to grip the table behind you and lean into it.

“Good?” He breathed, heat off his aura suffocating you and you wondered is the bottom of the ocean hot? too.

“Y-yeah. Yeah! Talented. Brilliant. Incredible. Amazing. Show stopping—”

He laughed and that was sexy too, shrugging into another languid gulp of water, pointed in stretching his neck out and he held the open bottle toward you until you took it. “As good as that Vine, huh?” His teeth appeared into the teasing smile that whipped away from you as he sauntered for the array of computer monitors in the corner displaying his shots.

You fumed.

“That’s a Lady Gaga quote, dumbass.”

Your knees, crossed albeit, were digging into the side of Jimin’s thigh and for a table to be so small in a quaint corner of a bustling rooftop restaurant, it garnered well over the decibels needed to make other patrons glance your way when a round of applause waved through the group.

It was Jimin who had elicited the reaction with the piece of paper in his hand, firm and glossy and making that distinct flop noise when he’d untucked it from it’s folder pocket and maybe if you didn’t have to crane from your position next to him to see the image splayed out over the front, your knees wouldn’t be invading his space. He didn’t seem to care, wearing a charming smile that flashed over the top of your head to the man most affected by the various interest levels of stares gathered from around the general vicinity of the restaurant.

There was a chunk of steak still stabbed through the throngs of Jeongguk’s discarded fork, meticulously cut by his focus that so desperately tried to evade the situation at any given opportunity. You noticed the pink in it before the pink spreading outward on his cheeks, framing the grateful smile he gave as acknowledgement before bowing his head at the audible emissions of praise.

“Quite the cover photo,” Jimin was still speaking, on the tail end of his reveal speech. He pulled the photo away to glance at it again, “And for an amateur on their first job as well. Phenomenal, truly.”

You touched Jeongguk’s thigh and it was the strength he needed to utter his thanks, soft at first and then louder as he addressed the other occupants at the table, “Thank you. It...it means a lot—” He turned and you followed his gaze to the one individual at the table who you’d yet to hear speak, seated at the head of the table opposite Jeongguk, wearing a black waistcoat and an easy smile to petal shaped lips.

“—and thank you, Mr. Kim, for this incredible opportunity. I-I...we—” He glanced at you for permission to include you in his speech and you squeezed his thigh in encouragement, “—we wouldn’t be here without you.”

Seokjin bowed his head in a similar fashion to Jeongguk, dropped the cloth napkin scrunched in his palm to hold that hand up in solace, “You’re very welcome but please, call me Seokjin. Before you ask, my father wasn’t Mr. Kim, I just don’t want to be called that.”

Jeongguk didn’t know whether to laugh and he wasn’t the only one so Seokjin tried to amend further, “Formality is outdated. Am I right?”

Someone, a marketing tech for the specific cover shoot, murmured quietly to sate the CEO, “Correct, Seokjin.”

Other customers had gone back to their previous dinner table discussions, returning the restaurant to the dull roar of before, and your table was no exception to the seemingly mundaneness. Ice cubes against frosted glass, the click of cutlery into glass plating, an occupied silence filled with content chewing and thoughtful swallows.

Questions to proceed the cover shoot reveal.

“What exactly were you doing before this? I understand you’re still in university?”

Jeongguk didn’t have to lie on that question because Taehyung hadn’t lied on your resumes. Or your cheat sheets, depending on who was asking. You’d forced him to sit on the floor in the living room of the apartment and recite back any and everything contained on the email attachment Taehyung had begrudgingly sent you again, from the way your name and phone numbers were ordered on the header to the exact digits, a forward and back recitation of Taehyung’s phone number (a series you’d, unfortunately, never forget).

“Yes, I’m going to school for, uhm...chemistry,” He winced because that also wasn’t a lie. Unfortunately.

You kept quiet because they hadn’t asked you. On guard. On call, maybe. Eager to recite your major and list of minors like you were at a family barbecue with cousins who refused to talk to you for three years.

An impressed murmur rounded the table in a wave. “Chemistry...What will you do with that?”

Like clockwork. “Med school, possibly. Maybe teaching. Not sure yet.”

“And your modeling experience—” Now into the flashcards once stacked in the need to review pile, “—who did you say you were signed with?”

“Ah…” His knife hit in a resounding rebound through the slab of meat he was attempting to dice into another tiny cube, “Well I wasn’t really signed, I just—”

“You weren’t signed?”

You swallowed because it wasn’t Seokjin who’d ask the question but the smile on his lips had wilted into the furrow of his eyebrows, two elbows hitting the table as his fingers clasped in front of him.

“The company has changed names since then,” Jeongguk jammed the cube into his cheeks but chewing didn’t let him off the hook as ambient dinner noises paused in wait of his answer, “It’s been a while…”

“Your resume says you’ve had published billboards up until last year. Were you not signed then?”

“It’s been a while since I originally signed. I had that contract for five years time and the company changed possession three times in that period. Who knows what it’s called now, you know?”

Safe.

Your on call button beeping eagerly in the forefront of your conscious gradually flickered until it was off because your lie wouldn’t be as easy. You couldn’t produce a selfie or even a fake contact that would ring to rap superstar Kim Namjoon. Even Taehyung wasn’t that good.

“Your manager, agent, whatever you have—” It was Jimin who asked this time, curious, “—would we know him?”

“Kim Taehyung,” Jeongguk offered up the name with little hesitation and you almost choked on a clump of parmesan tickling at your throat. The cheese convinced you there were a million Kim Taehyung’s in the world, the name not your eccentric, software engineer group project partner who’d once recited the HTML of the university’s financial aid office web page to you by memory and you managed to swallow down a gulp of your ice water, cube included, with minimal tears pooling due to your choke. “He’s our manager.”

The introduction of our caused eyes to fall upon you and blinked through the bleary tears remaining in makeup coated ducts. Some of the product smeared into your eyes then, worsening the tears of pain, but no one addressed you still. You just nodded to ensure they didn’t.

The end of the meal meant goodbyes and goodbyes meant brief instances of small talk with each individual at the table. For you, they were limited to thank you for the meal. For Jeongguk, it was a sentence or two more, ones you were in earshot of.

Seokjin came last, a soft hug wrapped around your shoulders that was awkward in the way that he patted at your arm. It was a firmer hand he reached for Jeongguk a firm shake in the middle of two broad statures as he stared directly through the haphazard fringe stringing into Jeongguk’s lashes.

“Congratulations,” Another firm shake that traveled up into a pat on Jeongguk’s shoulder, “I look forward to seeing more of your work.”

You trailed Jeongguk’s pointed trek through the front door of the apartment building, taking three strides to his normal one and you tried to slow him with a tempting, “Should we go get ice cream? We should go get ice cream.”

He was slowest when in front of the elevator, jamming his middle finger into the up button. “Why should we go get ice cream?”

“To celebrate?” Your toe caught on the small gap between the ground floor and the elevator, “They seemed to really enjoy it—”

“I’d rather just go to bed,” It was harsh in delivery but his eyes softened and his chin tilted down toward you, “...if that’s okay. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” You affirmed and as an afterthought you teased, “Beauty sleep for the superstar.”

His smile was a ghost on the dimples in his cheeks, eyes downcast so his eyelashes shadowed on his cheekbones and his head dipped away from you to stride down the hall, staying that way as he fiddled with the blue spiral on his wrist and pushed into the apartment.

Jeongguk was with you in peeling off your shoes onto a makeshift welcome mat, a plastic takeout bag from the Thai food you’d gotten the second night, before affirming again, less harsh and almost tentative, not to ask but that you’d say no and he wouldn’t get to complete his request.

“...it’s okay if I go to bed? If I leave you alone down here?”

“Yeah,” You reached to touch his wrist, feathering your fingers over his knuckles, “Maybe I’ll figure out the TV so you don’t have to do it for me every time.”

He tried to smile. It didn’t fool but you let him go anyway, watching mute as he ascended the stairs, sluggish and slow like his fingers fiddling at the buttons of his creased button up.

“Jeongguk—” He looked at you now, fingers braced on the railing, shoulders slumped as he turned, “—take your makeup off.”

“Thank you, baby,” A soft murmur that echoed in the silence of the house, “Good night…”

You tried the television twice and gave up on the third time’s the charm, trekking the route Jeongguk had made up the stairs but turning the opposite direction for your room. You saved the shower for the morning, pocketing your jewelry in an empty pouch of your suitcase, swiping a baggy t-shirt off the floor that smelled like your roommate, washed your face in the facet you’d mastered in three weeks time, tucked yourself underneath cool sheets, raising your phone to your face where it was attached to a looping extension cord plugged into yet another inopportune outlet on the far side of the bed.

A makeup tutorial that was less of a tutorial and more of a demonstration of the guru’s skill set elicited the sleep in your eyes and you’d nearly dozed off when another light peeked from your peripheral, one that startled you to lock your phone and squint.

It was Jeongguk, body language like you’d left him but pajamas on in place of his dress clothes with a blanket sanctioned over one shoulder and dragging against the ground like his sluggish footsteps. A pillow was clutched in his latter arm, squished against his chest with his chin resting on the plush surface, forming a natural pout on the purse of his lips and the wrinkle of his nose.

“Hey,” You didn’t question, the initial startle of your heart morphing into something fond and heavy in your ears that caused you to spread your arms, “Come on.”

Mindless shuffling was domestically mundane, tugging apart the made side of the bed, replacing the pillows with his, tucking the duvet at his waist and his blanket over his shoulders, shifting further into the warmth to let him drape a hand to your hip, contact, while you propped yourself up on the curve of your arm.

“You okay?” You thumbed soft strands of his fringe between your thumb and index finger and when he didn’t jerk away, you went to stroking the tresses between the spaces in your digits. It was wet, shower fresh, not dry enough to curl yet.

Jeongguk grumbled, voice muffled and raspy into his pillow that he mushed his cheek further into, “Just couldn’t sleep, is all. Your bed is comfier.”

You ignored the way his fingers fist further into your shirt at your hip. Carefully, you nodded, “You sure that’s all?”

He hummed again, a mixture of hesitation affirmation and the reaction to your nails scraping into his scalp. You repeated the motion just to hear him mewl and feel him relax, melted shoulders shifted until he was close enough to wrap an arm around the small of your back.

“The shoot turned out really well, huh?” Jeongguk snorted, the breath fanning against your neck and you frowned, “I mean, it’s really cool. That you’re going to be on the cover. Looking like that—”

“I guess.”

You went to scrunching his hair at the back of his head between your palm, “The other things we’ve been working on since...they’ll turn out great too. Who knows, maybe you can erase the foot modeling for something legitimate and credible.”

Jeongguk’s hair ruffled in your grasp when he adjusted his cheek on the pillow, pulling away from your chest to be eye level.

“You know something?”

You let your hand flop out of his hair to the pillow, “What?”

“I haven’t taken a single picture since we’ve been here. I haven’t even thought about touching my camera.”

“I hate it,” He continued, blunt with his nose crinkled at the bridge, “I miss it…”

“We have a day off in a few days. Maybe we could go exploring with it—”

“—and I can’t believe I’m saying this but I miss school. I miss being at university,” Jeongguk blinked, a prolonged blink that scrunched at more parts of his face, “Okay, I don’t miss that. I...I don’t know what I miss. It’s...something. Mostly photography probably but I think it’s just…”

“...I think it’s just knowing. I miss knowing. As in having at least a sense of what I’m doing. Where I’m going. What I want to do.”

Your features softened into something grim, nodding when he glanced at you. His laugh was bitter as he held your eye contact, “In short, I hate this. I, frankly, hate that you convinced me to do this. I...I can’t wait to go home.”

“I’m sorry, Guk, I didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault,” He breathed in, holding it, eyes closing, “Please don’t apologize. It’s been like this for a while. Me not...knowing.”

“I thought you were right. Money can fix a lot of things, like paying off my loans and tuition. But paying my tuition means I’m stuck in an unspoken contract of sorts with a major I hate that’ll propel me toward a career I’m unsure of but already hate, anyway.”

“The only thing I’m sure of is my camera,” Jeongguk shrugged, eyes open and wide and starred in natural celestials and a shimmer of tears, “and I don’t even want to touch that anymore.”

“I mean I do, but I don’t...you know?” His voice broke then, a glisten falling to his cheek now as a tear finally lipped over and you cooed, rushing forward to intercept him back into your embrace.

“What’ll make it better?” You held him with two arms around his neck, cheek pressed into the damp strands at the crown of his head.

“Don’t know. Leaving probably. But...I’m not going to do that. It’d make me feel worse. Quitting, you know.”

“What can I do? Anything? I already made you come here…”

Jeongguk pulled away from the damp spot he’d rounded on the collar of your shirt and the base of your throat, cheeks blotchy and tearful and he scolded, “I told you not to worry about it. I’m the hot mess.”

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend,” You thumbed at his cheek, collecting the drying tears, “My hot mess.”

You didn’t expect Jeongguk’s strawberry tulip bud lips to taste like salt the first time you kissed but you cleared the culprit of the taste with your thumbs while he pressed desperate affections into the seam of your mouth, holding you tight to him at the waist. You let him because you wanted it too but took his lull for a breath to cup his face, still working at clearing the fresh wave of tears on his cheeks while you hushed, “Not now.”

“M’sorry,” He apologized this time, a messy blubber through your tender touch, “I didn’t—I didn’t want to do it like this.”

“If I don’t get to apologize, neither do you,” You kissed his nose in lieu of his lips, “You can kiss me all the time once you figure you out.”

Jeongguk sniffled, “Be careful. That’s incentive.”

“Maybe that’s why I said it,” You kissed his eyelid in tandem with another swipe underneath it and you mirrored the action on the opposite side, “And you never answered me. What can I do?”

He smiled when he noisily advertised the snot in his nostrils this time, squeezing your hips, “Just be you. You’re the last thing I photographed.”

“You’ll always be the thing I photograph.”

You were halfway through waving a strand of his hair down the battery powered wand in your hand, an online purchase with your second intern check. It was a seasoned movement now, easier with his hair that had grown without cut since you’d been in the city. It was an advertisement shoot, a casual look that would be perched above bar codes and brand affiliates on the back page of the magazine.

“Crouch for me,” You paired it with a light smack to his shoulder, catching attention where it had wandered to a loose strand on the baggy t-shirt draped over his stature. Jeongguk was purposeful in being awkward, bending at the waist and the knees and he dramatically sat a hand on his thigh, cocking a hip out and sticking his tongue out at you.

“Better?”

“I can’t stand you—”

“Is it their break?”

You managed to maneuver your surprise into the jerk of the curling wand away so it didn’t burn Jeongguk, both of you glancing toward the new presence in the room. It was a frantic looking intern from the front desk, one that came and went on an odd schedule you couldn’t quite pinpoint but he looked two seconds away from tearing his hair out at the roots anyway. When the photographer nor the set manager didn’t respond, he took it as an affirmation, forward in grabbing Jeongguk’s arm to tug and motioning you with his free appendage.

“I guess it is now,” You exchanged a glance with Jeongguk when the intern scoffed, not letting go of the larger man before him until you were halfway down the hallway and an abrupt turn to another later.

“You’re needed with one of the head executives.”

The cover shoot magazine was set to go in print within the next few days and urgent around the studio meant they went about airbrushing the static in Jeongguk’s curled hair a different way and were seeking approval of the talent. You assumed Jimin was about to tutt in disapproval when you couldn’t see the smudge his stocky finger was gesturing to on the life sized image plastered across the center of his desk.

But you turned past the sign indicating his office and you almost parted your mouth to gently correct the frazzled twenty-something, help him out for something that was bound to be corrected anyway, but he paused in front of an office, that office, one with a name plate bigger than the rest and the only one displaying the company logo in tandem.

“Seokjin requested to see you personally,” The intern knocked but didn’t look inside, just propped the door open and gestured, “In you go.”

An excuse was on the tip of your tongue and you ran into Jeongguk on the way to express it but the intern had already coaxed at Jeongguk’s larger stature and you both were shoved into a shut room before your brain could even process that I have to use the bathroom on the first floor because that’s the only soap I’m not allergic to wasn’t a viable excuse.

“Hello,” The sheer size of Seokjin’s size seemed to swallow his broad shoulders even in the tight hug of a navy suit jacket to the definition of his shape but the enormity contrasted to the warmth in his voice, smile, and eyes as all gestured for the open chairs turned inward toward his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

He shuffled at two specific sets of papers as you tripped over Jeongguk’s ankles for the same chair, catching and narrowly avoiding a spill of an empty piece of furniture. You settled as the horror set in of what sets of papers Seokjin held, stapled leaves taken from the same blue file folders you’d been greeted with on day one.

You were useless in noticing you’d left your ID badge in the studio, too.

“I ran your references, out of curiosity…” Seokjin bent the papers in hand at the thumb, “Tell me about Kim Taehyung.”

“That’s our manager,” A robotic answer spoke in monotone, Jeongguk’s blank gaze on the turtle paperweight perched on the edge of Seokjin’s desk suggesting the same type of mechanical movement.

“Your manager is a member of two seperate government watch lists for hacking low level search engines?”

Your eyes bulged and you forgot your role, “He is?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin smiled gently, “but he probably should be if he isn’t. He’s not very subtle about it. Between him and the conspiracy theorist…”

“Yoongi,” You breathed, “Yeah...probably.”

“You—” He shuffled deeper into his array of papers, plucking one specific piece out to slide across the desk at Jeongguk. You recognized it as a screenshot of his online portfolio, the chosen album one of fresh summer wildflowers (weeds, you’d informed him behind the scenes) from the summer prior, “—you’re very talented.”

“And you…” This time a screenshot of your commissions profile, various examples of your work scattering the black and white screen cap, “You have an eye for design. My layout team could learn a thing or two from you.”

“I checked with your university and don’t worry, not your grades. I don’t care about those numbers frankly…” He tapped on something on the top paper in his pile, “Your majors. You didn’t lie about those. Graphic design, that suits your passions, from what I can tell at least.”

You nodded.

“But chemistry?” Seokjin blinked, “I can’t imagine that fulfills you in the slightest. You said you plan to be a doctor?”

“I don’t know,” Jeongguk answered, quick and honest and for once he didn’t slump into the answer. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

“Can I let you in on some cheesy but true advice?”

More nodding, this time from both.

“It’s not worth it if it doesn’t fulfill you. Certainly not something so far in left field from what you clearly love to do. I said I didn’t care about grades but…” Seokjin cocked his head, a knowing smile on his lips, “Those grades don’t match someone who's passionate about their field.”

“I’m going to have to pull the cover shoot, for obvious reasons. I’ll have to send you home as well, with the rest of your internship pay, of course.”

You rushed to deny that in the same sentence that Jeongguk did, apologetic and hot at the neck when Seokjin held up a hand.

“You get the pay on one condition. You go home and do something with it. Something something, not just continue on with that boring chemistry degree.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I told you to call me Seokjin but I’m going to change that, too—” Seokjin stood, rounding his desk for a handshake that Jeongguk rushed to straighten and intercept, “—call me Jin when you book your first photography gig, alright? Even if it’s just your conspiracy theorist friend and his fried chicken looking poodle.”

Jeongguk laughed, loud and unabashed and you were the first person he directed his joy at, only causing your elation to grow tenfold in your heart.

“You too, after you design the new McDonald’s logo or something. I’m getting pretty tired of those golden arches…”

You thumbed at the tassel dangling off the graduation cap flopped top down on the edge of Jeongguk’s mattress. It fit Jeongguk’s head better than yours, so you brought it over for him to borrow so that the fight in the bookstore was one less stress his graduation checklist had to suffer from.

“Taunting me with that?” Jeongguk’s neck hinged over the side of the bed, blinking backward at you.

You glared, breaking away from the yellow fringe to crouch in front of his face, squishing his cheeks together to plant a chaste kiss on the exaggerated pout of his lips. One of many you’d planted on him after he’d met with his advisor to change his track from chemistry to digital imaging, adding an extra summer semester onto his graduation while he watched you take your leatherbound diploma in only muted jealousy from beyond the lens of his obnoxious camera obscuring the view of a dad in a Hawaiin shirt and sandals.

Your headshot, the original one you’d taken messily after burning your arm and testing eyeliner thickness over the same mark, was framed in his room but not hung, leaning against the wall where he’d nailed a hanger but couldn’t get the cheap balsa wood to center. You pointed to it, “Taunting me with that?”

“No,” He reached for you, grabby hands until you stepped into his embrace, allowing him to pull you down onto his bed, “I think you look cute.”

“I think you’re a sap.”

“I think I’m allowed to be considering you’re moving next week.”

“You’re renting a space in my bed in eight weeks,” You sat up to poke his nose, “We both lose.”

Jeongguk pouted, “Hey.”

You just grinned, “Hey, what?”

“That was the best part of that internship,” He marveled, blissful as his eyes shut, “Living together.”

“Oh yeah? Not the whole introspective finding myself thing?”

“Nope—” The fullness of his teeth shined even as his eyelashes stayed glued, “—the whole getting to cuddle the secret love of my life thing.”

“It wasn’t that secret.”

“It was.”

“Hmm, okay,” You folded your arms at your chest to prop yourself up on his stomach, “Speaking of secrets. Have you checked your phone?”

“Did Yoongi add us to another group chat?”

You snorted, “Check your phone.”

You huffed when Jeongguk used the top of your head to hold his phone, thumb flexing against your forehead as it scrolled, and you giggled when all his motions, breathing included, gradually stalled.

“Did Taehyung figure out how to hack email addresses too?” When you didn’t respond, Jeongguk peered at you underneath his thumb, “Ha-ha, very funny.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I got another email from Jin.”

“Oh, that,” You grinned, “Yeah, I do know about that.”

He grumbled, thumb moving into action again as he clicked around, opening the email and enlarging the font to read.

“Jeongguk. I’m happy to hear you’re graduating soon and in something you seem to enjoy! It just so happens that we have an opening here in our photography department and we’re seeking someone with your exact credentials. I’ve reviewed your updated profile and can’t say I’m anything less that thoroughly impressed. If you can provide me with an updated, and legitimate, resume, the spot will be yours upon graduation.”

“Thanks for not spending my money on booze,” Jeongguk added with a laugh, “Seokjin (Or Jin. Just not sir. Or Mr. Kim).”

“Really?” You rewarded his face with a kiss to his chin, moving the affections up his cheek as he marveled, “They really want to hire me?”

“They really want to hire you. For real, this time.”

“But...but wait—” He stopped you with the heel of his palm into the center of your forehead and you huffed, “We...we just got things figured out. And I’m going to have to move closer to the company…”

You did your best to plaster indignation onto your features, “You really think you’re going to get away with leaving your stylist here?”

Jeongguk’s eyes bulged, hopeful but not following, “...what?”

“Grab my phone for me.”

He happily obliged in dipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans, handing you the device with a smile but deeply concerned, singular, eyebrow. You huffed, fumbling at the screen of your phone until you pulled up your own email, one you’d received two weeks ago and you enlarged the font to hand to Jeongguk.

He frowned through his intense scanning before whining, “Is this why you wouldn’t tell me anything about your job offer?”

“Yes.”

“...did he hire you to run the design department?”

“Not yet but I am working there.”

“...so we’re not getting that apartment back home?”

“Nope.”

“...are we still moving in together?”

“Absolutely.”

An extra silence and you could feel the gears churning behind his skull in the rapid thrum of his heart at your palm, “...back to the previous apartment?”

“I don’t think that’s available anymore but no. I asked for something a bit more our taste.”

“So we can buy real welcome mats this time?” Jeongguk propped himself up on his elbows, curling his stature so you were drawn closer to his face and he happily rubbed his nose to yours.

“You didn’t like our bachelor pad chic decor?”

He ignored you, “And can we build IKEA tables together? Oh, what about name our apartment, you know, like people name their cars—”

#bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #fic: dare to begin #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S DONE!!

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 4 years ago

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The villain in your story - 6. The Turnaround

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: Sure, I could be your loyal lapdog, your sweet little slut, you biggest fan. But I don’t want to be. Why should I be loyal, sweet, or supportive when I receive none of those things from you?

Pairing: Bucky x OC (Roxanne Amy)

‘So you’ll come back to the Stark tower?‘ ‘No, and I won’t help any of you until Tony Stark sincerely apologizes,‘ she sternly states, ‘but that won’t ever happen because he’s too stubborn to admit he’s wrong.‘ ‘You’ve got a point there.‘

‘Tony, we need to talk,‘ Natasha barks as the four of them stomp into the Stark tower. Tony sits at the kitchen table, looking tired and lost. ‘I know,‘ he simply mumbles. He doesn’t look too well. It makes all of them slow their pace until they reach the table. ‘Christ, what happened to you.‘ Bruce blurts out. Tony points at the coffee table of the common room and the group sees copious amounts of empty bottles and cans on the table. ‘For someone who’s supposed to be a genius, I am incredibly stupid,‘ he comments on himself. Letting his head fall into his hands. ‘That you are,‘ Bucky confirms, gaining a stomp to the arm from Steve who forgot about Bucky’s metal arm and got hurt himself. It takes all of Bucky’s strength to not burst out in laughter, but luckily it’s not just him. Natasha is having a hard time as well. ‘He’s right,‘ Tony admits, ‘I’ve been so damn blind.‘ Suddenly the elevator door opens and a familiar tik, tik, ticking sounds on the floor. Tony shoots up from his chair so fast, it falls over loudly. ‘Tony, I got your manual,‘ Roxanne calls over into the room, not really looking around as she’s digging in her bag to get to the thing. She fishes it out of her bag just before she reaches the table and suddenly realizes there’s more people than expected. She looks at all of their faces and they watch as they see a flush of disappointment run down her face. She suddenly looks so much smaller than she did when she ran in. They don’t even notice Peter running in behind her. She throws the manual on the table loudly. The group looks at the extremely thick book. ‘That’s all you need to know. No, I don’t have online versions for you. Yes, I printed them out of spite and to bother you. You don’t deserve better,‘ she tells him and turns around to walk out the door again, but Peter stops her like he did last time. He stands in her way and seems to try to think of a question to make her stay. She cuts him off before he can say anything. ‘Kid, I know you’re trying to make me stay so you can fix this, but there’s nothing to fix. It’s like trying to piece tog-‘ ‘together shattered glass. Useless,‘ Tony finishes her sentence. A small smile plays on his lips. It’s almost a nostalgic look. Roxanne turns around just a second. ‘I remember when I first heard you say that. We were working on some armor, but we got it completely wrong. You said that and I asked you if we should give up and you looked at me like I just told you the most stupid thing in the world. And then you said-‘ ‘No, we just start over,‘ Roxanne mumbles, feeling nostalgic at her former positivity. She used to always see the bright side of things and then everything shattered for her, and she started new. She started colder. ‘I’m truly sorry,‘ he tells her. ‘And I’m truly sorry you had to take so long to realize that you were wrong,‘ she snaps at him, ‘honestly, are you stupid? You knew you were wrong and yet you still continued to blame it on me!‘ ‘I know.‘ ‘That’s not enough,‘ she snaps louder, ‘you took everything from me. You manipulated my friends into standing behind you and they dropped me. I couldn’t pay my apartment anymore. You can ask Bruce how that went. I-‘ ‘Wait, what?‘ Tony looks between Bruce and Roxanne. ‘You didn’t seriously think I could pay for the apartment I had after I got out of a job that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about? I couldn’t tell anyone about my experience! I worked my ass off in a job I hated to afford a new place.‘ ‘I didn’t realize-‘ ‘Of course you didn’t realize! You fired me on a whim!‘ The group stares between the two, knowing damn well that this has to happen if they want things to change. No one moves, no one breathes, but you can feel the tension. It’s in the air, it twists your guts, it makes you dizzy. Tony sits down on the chair next to him and runs his hands over his face, frustrated and confused. ‘Do you believe me when I say I don’t know why I did it,‘ Tony asks her. He watches as her face shows compassion. It’s just for a second before it goes back into ice queen. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. You’re too smart to fire someone who owns half your security software,‘ she huffs. ‘It’s the truth,‘ he tells her, ‘I don’t know why I did it and I regretted it the second you walked out. And I just kept telling myself and others that you actually did it to make my actions right, but I felt guilty. That’s why I kept coming back to you. I could’ve gotten Bruce to do part of the repairs, but I wanted to get you back.‘ ‘Praise will get you nowhere,‘ she sighs. ‘It’s not praise,‘ Tony stands up again, ‘it’s the truth. I swear.‘ ‘How do I know you’re not putting up a show again,‘ she shrugs, ‘because last time you did. Otherwise, these guys wouldn’t have come to my place. They wouldn’t dare to.‘ He takes a deep breath. ‘You can’t know for sure,‘ he admits, ‘and let’s be honest, you don’t have to accept my apology, but I am truly sorry and I wish I had never fired you. When I see what you do for all of us, I can only feel guilty for sending you away when I need you so badly. I can’t do this on my own.‘ The group all watch in disbelief as a small smile starts to spread on Roxanne’s face. ‘I believe you.‘ ‘Why,‘ Tony asks confused. He’s been trying to apologize for ages, he’s tried to play it off, but she has never told him she believe him. ‘The great Tony Stark, the most stubborn man on earth,‘ she teases, ‘just admitted he can’t do it without me. That’s something you hate to admit and you would never pretend to be unable to do something on your own just to get someone back. Because you’re a stupid, stubborn man.‘ ‘My pride is hurt, but I honestly couldn’t be happier,‘ Tony smiles, walking over to Roxanne. He hesitates for a second when he gets close, but she pulls him into a hug that’s much overdue. ‘Don’t think this means I’m going to work for you again.‘ ‘I know.‘ ‘Ah, lady Roxanne is back,‘ a new voice calls, ‘I want to meet this ruthless woman.‘ ‘Loki, not now,‘ Tony sighs, letting go of Roxanne. ‘It’s fine,‘ Roxanne smiles, ‘nice to meet you Loki.‘ He looks a bit disturbed at her happy display. ‘Are you sure she’s the same woman I saw before,‘ he asks Steve. Steve bellows a laugh so loud he starts feeling it in his stomach. Peter cuts in. ‘By the way, sorry for that.‘ Roxanne chuckles at the chaos ensuing around her. ‘It’s fine.‘ Tony puts his arm around her shoulder as the group begins to argue, tease, and laugh with each other. ‘I’ve missed this,‘ she tells him, tears in her eyes. ‘Me too.‘ He hesitates for a second, but then asks: ‘So, do I get an online manual?‘ ‘No.‘

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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violetsystems · 4 years ago

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#personal

I was invited the other day to join a community as a Creative Advisor from a survey I filled out for Adobe. I made the choice last November to purchase Creative Cloud for an entire year at a discount. When I worked at an art school I had all those applications free. Anybody in the arts community will tell you that software is expensive. I don’t necessarily feel too connected to the local arts community these days. But being a Creative Advisor basically means I participate in focus groups and offer my opinions in writing. It’s a not a bad way to stay active as a creator. I bought a drone basically so I had 4k footage to mess around with in Premiere. I am a YouTube Creator by definition. Yesterday after posting a video of the stream there was another survey in the right hand corner. I cautiously opened it and read through it. It was an inclusion survey. YouTube wanted information to help with their community. The first question was what race I identify as. I can’t really argue I’m not white. The next question was if I identified as part of the LGBTQ community. I don’t so I answered no. The third question was what gender I identified as. I said male because I’m cis. I completed the survey and went on about my business. A few minutes later another popup asked me how satisfied I was with the YouTube community after all this. I answered Very Satisfied and closed the window. I’m also part of a larger community here in Chicago. This can be drilled down so far that you can find yourself standing in a lonely circle with a thousand fingers pointed back at you. My immediate neighbors identify. I wouldn’t know what specifically or why so I don’t ever really pry. I live on a pretty diverse property when it comes to tenants. That expands into a pretty diverse neighborhood with a pretty diverse set of issues when it comes to power sharing. I live the mad max sort of mentality these days. Think more Fury Road than Road Warrior. Where he helps out then silently fades away to focus on his own car wreck of a life. One winter while shoveling snow I discovered somebody had written something in front of one of my neighbor’s doorstep. It said “gay people live here.” I processed it, shrugged and shoveled it away. I couldn’t tell if my landlord was supposed to discover it, if my neighbors actually wrote it, or if it was somebody being hateful. I made a judgement call on the account of safety and made a mental note of it then made it disappear. I cared enough to think about it no matter how much this entire process exhausts me. People join communities for connection. People seek out authentic communities for safety, pride and respect. And people in America should be able to do this freely without being exploited, judged, watched, or compared. Communities overlap and the geopolitics therein get a little tricky. When you live in a city with so many different influences, cultures, and hang ups the fog of the ideological war muddles up everyone’s intentions. I think we retreat to the sanctity of our own communities because they understand the narrative and context best. I’ve been welcomed into many communities that aren’t my own. But my circle is pretty small these days. Mostly because for all the care and attention I apply to the concept of community, I’m often left out to fend for myself here in my bachelor Castle of Doom. Communities do consolidate power for better or for worse. Just like rich people hoard money and dodge taxes. Communities have their own cultural queues and signifiers. Communities in America have increasingly become more like tribes in the economic desert. Impenetrable communes at war with myopic definitions and hidden rules that are meant to keep people out for resource sake. So much so that the Road Warrior doesn’t seem like science fiction to me from personal experience.

It was the great poet Lord Humungus who may have set it best. Just walk away. Safe passage in the wasteland they said. Be your own boss. Own your sexuality and answer for your horny crimes. Shit, I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to where I belong in all of this. For me things have become equally obfuscated and easy to understand at the same time. I’m more of an anarchist these days than I would like to admit. I don’t really want to be on Tucker Carlson’s radar. Simply because everyone is looking for something to label you as so they can pass an easier judgement on you. People want you to identify so they can fit you into whatever conversational hole they wish to project at you. I run into my neighbors all the time. I treat people like people. Simply because I’ve been treated enough like shit to know I don’t want anyone else to experience that. I don’t really want revenge. I want all this nonsense to stop getting in the way of my pursuit of life, liberty and happiness. And the constant arguing and debate team every step of the way is troubling. It’s people with a beaten down sense of self confidence proving themselves in the arena of mob rule. For all the chest beating online on twitter or facebook people are kind of shook in the streets. It is a winner take all mentality. And even the more valid sides of the fight have taken to dirty tactics leaving some of us in the middle of an absolute shit show. Par for the course if you ask me. There are plenty of opportunities to be the hero these days. Not many to be acknowledged as one. You can be you and still support people that think differently. I had a dream about guns last night. I don’t own a gun. That’s not the right choice for a person like me. It doesn’t mean I can make a sweeping generalization for the rest of America. Neither do I actually care to. I’m cis. I don’t spend my time psychoanalyzing or judging gender or sexuality other than my own biases towards it. This is to treat people better and learn respectful communication. Communication is a two way street. And some communication is blocked, obfuscated or hidden for it’s own protection. It can also be self serving. Some of my closest friends are behind infinite onion layers of identities. Layers of firewalls that I pirouette through like a whirling dervish just to show I still care deeply. We take the time to show love. We take the time to understand the obstacles. And we have patience to understand that we have to sacrifice things sometimes for the sake of change. Make no mistake the way I see things on my own is fucked. I am part of a community here on Tumblr. A much wider community. There are times when I don’t fit in. When it’s not about me or you or whoever behind the screen. It’s what we connect to and how we learn to respect each other as human beings first. Not as names. Or fame. Who we really are behind all of this doesn’t really matter as much as the content and ideas we share. Community has it’s own memory and it’s own duty to hold things sacred. Some larger communities do a totally shitty job of understanding the needs of their ideological neighbors. And passion, pride, and lack of patience can burn bridges more quickly than building them. There are times when you realize you are part of a community that doesn’t honor your identity at the core. Sometimes it’s worse. You find you aren’t welcome in a community for whatever reason. If you are an abuser this is a safety issue and not really up for argument or discussion. But sometimes its far less deserving. And it’s a game of musical chairs to understand where you fit in and where you aren’t welcome. For me I’m part Swedish and also a minimalist in nature. Just look at Ikea and my habit of rearranging furniture. I grew more inward this year in terms of who I trust. Now it’s just me and a small percentage of screen names that might be owned by the same person or people. I identify them as my closest friends.

The thing about community I’ve learned over the years is that it can always be infiltrated. Trust can always be broken. We find we don’t belong to the bigger picture because motives are out of place. We long to just be normal and accepted for that. It’s exhausting to have to identify every time you walk out the door. I identify as human. Mostly I identify as Tim. Freedom in America is best summed up by a quote by my favorite person in the world. She’s from China. She said once she loved New York because it was the only place where she felt free to cry in public without anybody prying into why. I’m paraphrasing. But that shit has stuck with me like a knife for years. That isn’t what America is about right now. It’s almost like it’s looking for victims. Looking for signs of weakness to trick into a confidence game. It’s a setup on every corner. A prank waiting to happen. A constant obstacle to your main quest. And this isn’t what America is about. At least not the way I live it. I don’t think I solve the situation with more policing. I don’t think I solve it by doing anything other than continuing to live free. The challenge here in America is constantly evolving as it is around the world. America’s idea of free isn’t always well thought out. It’s riddled with paradoxes. And yet this is all I really have. I’ve seen enough people stalking me in the streets with shirts emblazoned with messages. Freedom isn’t free. Penetrate the world. Blue lives matter. Make seven up yours. I’ve made statements too and found myself more and more alone. And then I’ve started to realize geographically what’s worth fighting for. I’m tied to an address. That’s the address where the government sends my ballots and rejects my state taxes at. That’s the address where the utilities are in my name and I pay my rent on time. Sometimes even a month ahead. I’m fiscally responsible for once in my life. I’ve conquered years of societal glue that held me to mediocre and half assed standards. I’m a diamond in the rough except I’m not really all the rough. I’ve stood up for people who aren’t like me so much that I feel more isolated and weird every day. And I learn that sometimes it’s better to shy away from places where you aren’t welcome than to make a scene. I am stuck in my little hole here. If the answer were getting out there and networking, I’d ask people to look at my passport. It’s not good enough for the state to acknowledge as proof of my identity. But I spent a lot of money going back and forth to Asia trying to do just that. And I paid off all that debt awhile ago. I know the world is bigger than me. And I believe sometimes people think they’ve travelled the world in their computer. They’re the authority on everything. And here is the problem with freedom in America. The authority isn’t always right. This is why we seek out communities. For democracy. For peer review. To have our narrative understood and respected. And we need communities to be more about democracy and less about autocratic reactions to a zero sum game. I think it’s okay to not be part of something you don’t belong. And I also think it’s okay to respect people’s wishes to seek out where they do. But we have to learn to live together in America despite of this. And well this would require us as Americans to really look the beast in the eye. And doing that alone is scary. I should know. I do it every day. So much so that I’m literally not fucking around with much of anything other than what’s easy enough to read. Even when it’s easy to read it doesn’t mean it’s done in earnest. I can only really worry about the things I hold intimate and secret. The creative culture I’ve salvaged with my bare hands. I really don’t care if you don’t get who I am. But I want you to know I care about the world being free. At least for the people I care about. If you ever catch yourself crying in public just remember I’m right there over your shoulder cheering you on. I’ll fight for your right to cry about it and scare off anybody who interferes. That’s just who I am and nobody will know or even acknowledge me by name. Sometimes I do feel like a ghost. I’m not trying to walk through walls people set up for protection. But I will break down the barriers people put up to keep us from living together. <3 Tim

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mycatshuman · 5 years ago

Text

Good Deeds

Pizza! Pizza!

Previous Chapter | Next | More Chapters | Masterlist

Word Count: 2,776

Pairings: Eventual Prinxiety, Hinted Logicality

Warnings: Homelessness. Let me know if I missed any.

Thank you to @icequeenoriginal for beta reading.

-----

Virgil picked at his pizza as Roman and Thomas ate their own dinner happily. Thomas was eating a little too fast but Virgil couldn't exactly blame him. "You're really enjoying that pizza, aren't you?" Roman asked, amused as he noticed how fast Thomas was eating. Virgil bit his lip nervously and took a bite of pizza to try and seem normal as he pleaded that Roman didn't find Thomas's eating speed suspicious.

Thomas paused to swallow a bite of the pizza. "Yeah, it's really good."

Roman grinned. "I should hope so, this place has some of the best pizza I've ever tasted." Virgil carefully let the tension in his muscles relax a bit. It seemed as if the coast was clear. Roman bit off a bit of pizza as he side-eyed Virgil's piece and noticed he was still on his first piece. Maybe a bite or two taken out of it. Roman found himself worrying about these two yet again. Could Virgil have eating problems? Could he be allergic to something? Roman's eyes widened in utter horror. "You're not allergic to cheese or anything, are you?" He asked quickly. "I'm so sorry, I should have asked."

Virgil blinked. "Uhh, no. I'm not allergic to anything."

Roman let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the stars. I was so worried when I noticed you'd hardly eaten anything and I realized I hadn't even thought to ask you if the pizza was okay."

"Oh.." Virgil trailed off and lifted up his unfinished slice of pizza and ripped off a big bite. He made a show of chewing before swallowing the food. "I think you're right. It's really good pizza." He smiled sheepishly at Roman as the other blinked before his face broke out it a wide grin.

"I knew it!" He exclaimed. "You see, I have this friend who claims they've had pizza better than this and we always argue about it and I've never had anyone on my side before but now I've got the both of you on my side. In your face Logan!"

Thomas giggled as he finished his slices of pizza before glancing behind him at the Pac man game set up in the corner of the room again. Roman raised an eyebrow as he peaked at what Thomas was looking at. "You know.." He started. "I have seen you eye that game a few times during dinner, do you want to play?"

Thomas bit his lip. "Yeah..but we don't have money for games," he all but whispered, too nervous to upset his brother. He wasn't a stupid kid by no means and he knew his brother would feel horrible if he even hinted that he wanted more. Even worse would be his brother doing everything he could to get that more for Thomas and let himself go without something he needed just for Thomas's sake.

"No, no," Roman started. "Fun stuff should be free. Let's go. I got some money." Roman got up and led Thomas over to the arcade game and set it up for him. While the two were gone, Virgil quickly scarfed down the rest of his first piece and half of his second piece of pizza before pausing to chew and swallow before Roman got back.

Roman came back with a bright grin as he sat across from Virgil again. "He's a really cool kid," Roman commented.

Virgil allowed himself a soft smile as he glanced back at his brother playing the arcade game. "Yeah. He really is."

"Why'd he eat so fast?" Roman chuckled. "You'd almost think he was starving."

Virgil froze and quickly swallowed the lump in his throat. "Kids always seem to eat too fast. Always in a hurry to go play and such," he responded as calmly as he could. He couldn't have Roman getting any more suspicious.

"Ah. Yeah, I can see why. Less food time, more time to play."

Virgil laughed nervously. "Yeah." Virgil nibbled on his pizza as he began to feel uncomfortable.

A song came on over the speakers and Roman's eyes lit up. "Oh! I love this song!"

Virgil snickered as he recognized the song. "Are you a Disney fan?"

Roman nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! When I was little I used to sing all the songs and dance around like I was on stage! Then once I got into school, I auditioned for every musical and play. I finally started getting the lead in high school. It was so magical and enchanting." Roman sighed wistfully. "But it was simply not meant to be."

Virgil frowned. "Why?"

Roman became suddenly quiet and shrugged. "Well, my father passed the company on to me and my mother wasn't too fond of my…' playing pretend'."

Virgil's frown deepened. "Why didn't you follow your dreams? I mean, did you have to do what your parents expected you to do?"

Roman paused. Did he? "I….I guess I was too scared to disappoint them."

Virgil shook his head. "Is it really worth it being miserable to make them happy?"

"Miserable?" Roman asked.

Virgil froze. "I-I'm sorry. I assumed you- I. Forget it," he mumbled.

Roman bit his lip. "What about you? Did you always want to be a janitor?"

Virgil sighed. "No. I uh.." He chuckled humorlessly. "I actually wanted to be a musician. Write some songs and post them to YouTube. Maybe make some money off of it. Maybe work at a local theatre as a techie or in the pit."

Roman felt like this wasn't going to end well. "What happened?"

Virgil bit his lip. Did he tell the other that he had to give up his free time to get a second job to take care of his brother and get away from their parents? He let out a huff and shook his head. The risk wasn't worth it. "I had to take care of my brother. I didn't have time for free time. I got a second job and took care of Thomas for the rest of the time."

Roman stared at Virgil with something Virgil wasn't used to seeing directed at him. It wasn't pitiful like he was so accustomed to seeing on strangers who took in his clothes and adults who looked at him when he had gotten too much at the store and had to put something back. It was a look of empathy. It surprised Virgil. "So, why haven't you tried pursuing it again?" Roman asked cautiously.

Virgil sighed and glanced back at Thomas to check on him. "I don't have the time," he answered simply. Roman frowned. "So," Virgil started as he looked down at the table shamefully. "Am I fired?" He asked.

Roman blanched. "What?!? No! Of course not! I've never heard of you causing trouble before and it's not like you were stealing anything or destroying anything. You seem like a good worker, I'm not going to fire you over one little thing."

Virgil let out a silent, relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"And besides," Roman started cheekily. "Nobody has ever talked to me like that before. You park in my spot and call me an ass." Roman chuckled. "You made this a very interesting day."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "If that's true, it's sad."

Roman frowned. "Sad? What's sad?"

"That people never tell you the truth."

Roman burst out laughing. "Oh, my stars. Oh, people tell me the truth, they're just not rude when they say it."

Virgil snickered. "I beg to differ. I mean, correct me if I am wrong, but I don't think there's a nice of calling someone an ass."

Roman tried to fight the smile that was breaking across his face but he decided to just let loose. It's not like his mom would know. Besides, this might have been the most he's laughed in a while, and he was damn well going to enjoy it while he could.

"So," Roman started once he got his laughing under control. "How long have you been working for the company?"

Virgil thought for a moment as he checked on Thomas. The younger brother happily playing the game with the change Roman had given him to do so. "Um, I'd say about two years now."

"Oh," Roman said, an awkward silence now stretching between them. Roman wiped his palms on his slacks as they began to sweat. He hadn't felt this nervous talking to someone since high school. "So, what is it, exactly, that you do? What is Deeds Incorporated?"

Roman let out a relieved breath as Virgil checked on Thomas again after his question. Finally, something he should be able to answer without looking stupid. "Well," he started. "My father was a whiz with computers. He came up with great software and sold it to the government. Top secret. Then, 20 years ago, he got it declassified and went public-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," Virgil started. "I'm not a genius so dumb it down for me. What do you sell?"

Roman grinned and laughed. "We sell computer software."

Virgil let out a breath. "Okay! Thank you!" He exclaimed.

Roman giggled as Thomas came over with a yawn. "Vee," he started sleepily. "When's bedtime?" Roman felt his heart melt for the little guy as Virgil reached down and picked him up.

"Soon, Tommy. Soon." Virgil stood and placed Thomas on his hip as he turned to Roman. "Thank you for the pizza. But you know I really should get back to my car. I don't know how my friend will react if he sees me with you."

Roman frowned. "Is your friend normally this…" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "..possessive?"

Virgil's anxiety spiked as he realized how Roman took it. "No! It's just- he's my boyfriend,"

Roman's frown deepened as he pulled out a 20 to place on the table to pay for their meal. "I-" he started. He really didn't think it was safe for Virgil and Thomas if they didn't know how this "boyfriend" would react to seeing Virgil around another man. (Some part of Roman's mind filed away the fact that Virgil was gay as important information.) "Has your boyfriend ever been so...jealous to be violent?"

An anxious air spilled out between them. Virgil winced. He really was in deep with this lie. Might as well dig even further. "Oh no! He just gets insecure and tries to make me jealous, that's all." Virgil laughed awkwardly. "You understand, don't you?"

Roman bit his lip. He could see in some way. And he really didn't want to be pushy. But something just didn't sit right with him. However, he knew he couldn't do anything. The two had only just met and Virgil didn't seem like the type of person to trust someone he met hours before. “I understand," he answered. "I should be getting home anyway." He stood up beside Virgil who nodded his head.

"Did you want me to get some of that?" Virgil asked as he glanced at the table.

"Oh no!" Roman shook his head. "You're in the process of moving and that must have surely taken a lot out of your budget. I can handle it."

The three left the pizza shop as Virgil half wished he could have taken some of the money Roman had left on the table but he knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do so. And really, he didn't have to eat. Thomas could eat what they have now, it would last longer and Virgil would be able to make sure he was healthy. Because that's all that really mattered was that Thomas was healthy. Virgil would live. It was fine.

They walked in a fairly comfortable silence until they reached Virgil's car. "Thank you for the pizza. I know Thomas really enjoyed it," Virgil said as he opened the door and placed Thomas in his seat.

Roman smiled softly. "Well, did you like it?" A part of his brain told him he shouldn't be flirting but another part of his brain couldn't help himself.

Virgil flushed slightly as he took in Roman's fairly handsome face with an expression that made him soft. "Yes, thank you."

Roman grinned before he handed Virgil some money. "Here, as a thank you for spending some time with me." He chuckled awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I live alone and it gets to me sometimes," more like all of the time. "It was nice to spend time with someone instead of going back to my apartment alone. And I just wanted to thank you for your time." He blushed as he tried to keep his eyes to the ground while he held out the money to Virgil.

Virgil's eyes widened and began shaking his hands. "Oh no! It's okay. It was...nice." Virgil was well aware that he needed the money. Very well aware. But something stopped him. And he knew that he would feel incredibly guilty if he took the money.

Roman's head shot up. "Oh please! I insist!"

Virgil shook his head. "No. I really don't think I should."

Roman huffed. "Well..fine.." He deflated so much that Virgil almost considered taking the money only if for a smile to spread across the other’s kind face. "Is it okay if I say goodbye to Thomas?" Roman asked sweetly. "I know its weird, but I almost feel like he's my own brother. You've really got a good brother here." Roman grinned slyly. "And his brother isn't so bad looking."

Virgil blinked as he tried to process. A blush spreading like a wildfire across his pale face. "I-"

Roman shook his head. "No, it's okay, I know you have a boyfriend. Just thought you needed to know."

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. You can say goodbye to Thomas.

Roman smiled happily and kneeled on the floor of the car. "Hey, Prince Thomas!" He exclaimed.

"Prince Roman!" Thomas grinned.

Roman chuckled. "It was really nice meeting you. You'll have to tell your brother to bring you by sometime, how does that sound?"

Thomas's face lit up joyfully. "Yes!" He giggled.

Roman internally awed at the adorableness he had the good fortune of witnessing. He lowered his voice. "Alright, do you think you're up for a quest?" He asked.

Thomas's eyes blew wide. "Yes!" He whispered just as excitedly. Virgil allowed a soft fond smile spread across his lips as he watched the two interact.

Roman grinned. "Perfect." He held up the money and handed it gently to Thomas. "Do you think you are up for the challenge of giving this to your brother once I leave?"

Thomas stared at the money in his hand. He wasn't stupid. He knew Virgil needed this. He knew they needed this. "Yes, I can!" Thomas answered as his face twisted into one of determination.

Roman giggled. "You will do well, young prince. Farewell!" Roman exclaimed as he climbed out of the car. "May our paths meet again someday soon!"

Thomas dissolved into a fit of giggles as Virgil rolled his eyes and shut the car door. "Thank you again," he said as he turned around and went to get in the driver's seat.

Roman smiled. "You're welcome." He bit his lip. "I-if it's okay, maybe we could hang out some?"

Virgil paused. Thinking it over he decided there was no harm in agreeing. He made Thomas happy. And that's all that mattered. "Sure” he answered.

Roman grinned. "Yay! Alright, I'll see you around." Roman walked across the road and climbed into his car. He took one last glance at Virgil and Thomas before pulling off. A smile played at his lips. Today was a nice day.

-----

Virgil watched as Roman pulled off. "That man is very persistent." He climbed out of the car and walked around to open Thomas's door and pulling the gas can out. "Come on Thomas. Let’s go get gas."

"Virgil," Thomas started.

The older brother stopped and turned back to Thomas, scared that he was hurt. "What is it?"

Thomas held his hand, the one hundred dollar bill sitting neatly in his palm. "Prince Roman sent me on a quest to give this to you once he left."

Virgil blinked. "That smooth motherfu-" he stopped. He reached forward and took the money the other held out to him. That man sure is something. He thought to himself. "You did a wonderful job completing your quest, Prince Thomas," he exclaimed as he ruffled the others' hair. Thomas smiled brightly and the two were off on their journey to the gas station. Virgil thought about the money in his pocket and a blush rose upon his cheeks.

------

Taglist: @urielthealienboio @midnight-personal @supreme-overlord-bubbles @dn-fan21 @soul-of-a-vixen @mellow-yellow-nutella @anxious-but-trying-my-best @sanders-sides-rebloger @kool-bi-69 @ghosttb0y @thevirgilantone @prismartist @shamelesslypoetic @icequeenoriginal

Everything taglist: @spxced-oxt @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @little-euro-girl @unicornofdarknessstuff @maryann-draws

#good deeds au #good deeds fic #good deeds #sanders sides #roman sanders sides #roman sanders #sanders sides virgil #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #character thomas #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #mycatshuman fics

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boymeetsweevil · 6 years ago

Text

For science 1/7 - (NSFW)

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!Jungkook

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings/Themes: masturbation (vaginal) & voyeurism, unrequited feelings, eventual sex. is this crack yet? lol there’s a plot i swear.

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: posting this now because I’ve been working on it on and off for like a month and im tired of looking at it and jk’s bday is coming up HAPPY BIRTHDAY JK and i’ll be too busy with school plus im almost 7k into the second chapter so..

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Your eyes burn in protest as you scroll to the top of your terminal window once more to search for the error that is fucking your code up. It’s been hours of work and you still haven’t managed to get your program to run even though the homework assignment is easy in theory. In fact it’s just like a problem that Jungkook said the professors would probably give you in your sophomore year, and here you are in your junior year seeing such an ‘easy’ question. With him, it had truly been easy, though. Jungkook was a better computer science teacher than any professor you’d ever encountered. Thinking back to early high school days has you smiling softly to yourself.

You miss sitting closely together, heads sometimes touching, as you both bent over a problem while he explained why it looked hard, but was actually something you could do in your sleep. The wide smile he would give you when you completed competition questions in minimal time would always set your heart fluttering.

Your phone vibrating brings you back to reality. The caller ID reads ~JK~ and you swoop in to answer the call. If the time in the corner of your computer is right (and it is) he should have already opened his decision letter from the PhD department.

“Hey, what’s the verdict,” you ask as soon as you accept the call. You know there’s no other reason why he’d call you when you were supposed to meet up in a few hours for weekly game night.

“I got in,” his voice is soft, but you know him well enough to be able to hear the joy mixed in.

“Congratulations, Kook! That’s amazing, I knew you would get in, they’d be crazy not to accept you. Oh my god, we should celebrate.”

“Yeah, I was thinking maybe we could go out for drinks before heading back to mine to play tonight. You in?” Now you can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Of course I’m in. Let me just pack up and I can meet you. Where are you--the department lounge? I’ll come over.”

“Actually,” his shy tone has you sitting down slowly, returning your jacket to where you had it slung over the back of your chair. “You don’t have to leave right away. I was gonna try and call Yoori. You know, to tell her the news. And then tell Tae and Hobi, of course.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, that makes total sense. I should probably finish this code for Choi’s class anyway. It’s due on Sunday, but I’m almost done. Might as well turn it in early once I find this error.” Your hand scrapes at the sides of your jeans, looking for something to grab at.

“Well then I guess I have time,” he chuckles, “Your typos are always so tiny that they take hours to find. Let’s meet up at the bar in 2 hours then?”

You wince. Although it’s not at all a mean-spirited jab, you’re no longer in the mood for the friendly banter at the mention of Yoori, Jungkook’s long time unrequited love.

“Sure. See you then,” you hang up before he has the chance to say goodbye formally like he always insists on doing.

You put your phone down and berate yourself for getting distracted. If you were the brilliant Yoori, you wouldn’t have even made the typo in the first place. But you weren’t Yoori because you didn’t have the fortune of being born four years earlier and four times more beautiful, elegant, or intelligent. And you didn’t have the luck of being so much of a genius that you could skip years ahead of school like Jungkook either. So instead you would just have to chug along, always watching Jungkook chase Yoori.

You go back to scrolling through your code only to find the error a third of the way down. Jungkook was right, the typo was tiny--a misplaced equals sign. You sigh and run the code to make sure it’s perfect this time, and when it is you send it in to your professor to be graded. You consider heading home and using the extra time to make yourself look nice. Not that there was anything wrong with your oversized university t-shirt and jeans, but suddenly you think maybe things would be different for you with regards to your love life if you tried a little harder. You’re about to leave the library entrance that’s closest to your dorm, but you get a text from Jungkook.

6:41 - I called Yoori and she said she heard about my deal with RealiCorp and she wants to link up when she gets back on campus!

You narrow your eyes at the text. Jungkook had recently sold some software he developed to an up and coming gaming company that was supposed to make the imaging on immersion headsets better. He had made a pretty penny and was covertly offered a position at the company, but it was also a large victory for the computer science department at the university and his picture had been circulating around the department website for weeks. You suppose she finally saw it while she was taking a break from her research project off campus and decided to answer his calls for a change.

You text back what you hope sounds like a cheerful congratulation and decide to just go to the bar instead. What’s the harm in a few rounds before the rest of the crew arrives?

The harm would have been miniscule at most if you hadn’t been in your feelings, but when Jungkook, Tae, and Hobi arrive, you’re three rounds in and a little bit sloppy.

“Woah,” Hobi shouts, giving you a too strong pat on the back when he sits in the chair next to you. “Someone started a little early. What’s the occasion, are we celebrating something for you too?” Jungkook shakes his head with a sheepish smile and goes to sit beside you, away from Hoseok.

“Nope. Just getting ready for an evening with your loud ass.” He gives you a pretend pout and flags the bartender over. Tae sits next to him and gives you a little wave and smile.

“Two whiskeys, make mine a sour and make his straight. From the high shelf.”

“Hey now,” Taehyung’s eyes widen comically, “Are you forgetting that payday isn’t until next week? I’ll take the regular whiskey down there, please.”

“Don’t worry. Kookie said he was paying with his RealiCorp money,” Hoseok stage whispers into your ear, “He’ll probably cover your round too.” You swat him away and turn to Jungkook, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“You know I’ll cover yours. The rest of them, I don’t know.”

“What? Come on, you’re the youngest,” Tae whines, less than satisfied with his cheap whiskey shot.

“Shouldn’t that mean you guys pay for me?”

“N-no! Because you’re actually our senior now. You’re graduating this year, I’m the oldest technically but I’m not graduating until next year. We know these two aren’t graduating until the year after that,” he points to you and Tae, “Plus, you’re going to the PhD program next year. You should definitely be paying for us.” Hoseok has a point, you and Tae nod sagely to back him up.

“Fine,” Jungkook sighs, pushing his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose, “I’m in a good mood, so why not.”

“I bet you are,” Tae’s grin is big and catlike in the low light of the bar. His gaze a little lewd. “I would be too if I was one step closer to finally bagging a girl like Yoori.”

You look down into your beer bottle, the green glass suddenly much more fascinating than the conversation at hand.

“Did you hear,”Hoseok turns toward you,”Yoori is gonna come back soon and when she does he’s gonna make her Mrs. Jeon.”

“I’ll be sure to throw rice during the wedding,” you snark. The bartender brings you a new beer without another word. Taehyung howls at your comment.

“I’d kill to have a wedding night with her.”

“Hell, I’d kill to have a bathroom stall night. With anyone,” Hoseok sighs, “It’s hard out here for a comp-sci major. Right, guys?”

You hum in agreement. It had been a while since you’d last gotten laid.

“You’re right. I can’t even remember that geology minor’s face. Do you remember her? What was her name? Mara? Kara?”

“Sara,” Hoseok provides with a grin, “I think she has a thing for comp-sci majors. Kook, you ever hook up with Sara?”

Jungkook shyly traces a finger around the rim of his empty vodka class. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone.”

“Ever?” You try to keep incredulity from bleeding into your question.

“Ever,” he nods. He hiccups a little and all of the sudden you totally believe that Jungkook is a virgin.

“Dude, wait, I thought you hooked up with that one chick at the music festival last spring. Am I the only one who saw her?”

Tae nods in agreement. “Yeah, she gave you her hotel room key and everything.”

“It wasn’t like that. She told me her brother was there for a robotics tournament and I asked her if I could see the bot.”

You smile despite your sour mood. If there was one thing you loved about Jungkook it was his blind enthusiasm for STEM. Even if it made him a little oblivious to other things at times.

“Well, you better fix that whole virgin thing fast, bro. Chicks like Yoori probably want someone with experience. In more ways than one, if you catch my drift.” Hoseok nudges Tae with a wry smile.

“That’s not just a Yoori thing, most people don’t want to have to coddle someone in bed unless that’s, like, their kink or something,” you take a large swallow of beer.

“Wait,” Tae says, eyeing you like he’s had an epiphany, “You’re a girl--”

“Didn’t we establish this 2 years ago? When we met?”

“No, no, I mean you can help Kookie so he doesn’t drop the ball with Yoori.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Help him how? Give him a sex-ed lecture?” You turn to laugh with Jungkook, but he’s looking at you seriously. Or as seriously as he can when he’s tipsy with unfocused eyes and blushing cheeks.

“You…don’t want to help me?” His voice sounds pathetic and small, making you feel bad instantly.

“Oh, Kook, it’s not that I don’t want to help you. But think about what that implies.”

“Is it because I’m a virgin?”

“Oh my god, Kook, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin don’t listen to us. We’re idiots.”

“Then why don’t you want to help me?”

Because I like you. You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You obviously don’t say that, though. Instead you sit back in your bar stool.

“I-I would if I could, but I don’t know how to help you,” you finally say.

“It’s fine. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess the thought of being with Yoori makes me a little stupid.”

Desperately you search for a solution. Instead of finding one, you call the bartender back and order a round of tequila shots. Jungkook gives you a sad look but doesn’t ruin the mood by not taking a shot. You order two more rounds because somehow, even though he’s drunk, he still looks dejected. After your third shot you can’t stand the way his shoulder slump.

“You know what,” you slur loudly, drawing three pairs of eyes to your face lazily. “It’s getting late and we might not get to play Fortnite this weekend. Let’s all get to bed so we can be up early tomorrow to play.”

Tae points a wobbly finger in your direction, eyes suspicious. “When you say early, you mean after 2pm right?”

It takes twenty minutes for everyone to get their shit together enough to leave the bar. Tae and Hoseok keep losing each other in the bathroom. Jungkook keeps forgetting that he has to pay and tries to ask the bartender what he thinks about sub-atomic particle physics. Even though you’re drunk off your ass, you somehow manage to keep yourself responsible enough to wrangle Tae and Hobi out of the bathroom and guide Jungkook through the motions of swiping his card and signing the bill. The four of you then squeeze into the back of an uber. Hoseok whines about being lonely while sitting in the passenger’s seat. Jungkook’s bumps his hand against yours until he can firmly grasp it and get your attention before you pass out.

“Hey, can I sleep on the couch,” he whispers in your ear. His breath smells like alcohol and limes. You turn your head to chase the scent away and rest your head on his shoulder. You yawn.

“Sure. No problem, buddy.”

Your apartment is the first stop on the route and you launch yourself out the car and run up through your lobby and to the elevator to escape the cold of the air conditioner and the fluorescent lights. Jungkook lingers in the car until Tae pushes him out to make room for Hoseok.

“Kook,” Tae calls out as he helps Hoseok pour himself into the back seat.

“Wassap?”

“The only way to get good at sex is losta—lotta...lot’s a practish. Okay?”

“But-but…Who am I gonna practice with?”

Tae merely whistles and points a finger upward, gesturing to your illuminated window. The car pulls away and Jungkook sways unsteadily up onto the sidewalk with nausea clawing at his throat. Thinking of the stairs he’ll have to climb—because there’s no way in hell he’s taking the elevator, even in this state—he regrets not just going to his own first floor dorm. Does he really need to get sex counseling from you? There’s always porn, he muses before remembering the rant you’d gone on blaming porn for making a guy you’d been hooking up with try to do weird things in bed involving a summer squash. Looks like he’d have to rely on the real deal to get anywhere with Yoori. Oh, Yoori.

A shimmering vision of the beautiful girl with elegant eyes and an ever-painted smile floats in front of his hazy vision and gives him the strength he needs to hobble forward towards the lobby door with dedication.

Minutes ago you couldn’t wait to go to sleep, but as soon you unlocked your door and made it to your room, you were wide awake. Even brushing your teeth and stripping out of your jeans didn’t to tire you out.

“Fuck,” you groan. You throw yourself onto your bed and hope that the way the room spins will lull you to sleep but when the spinning stops, your eyes still won’t stay closed.

The clock resting on your desk across the room reads 1:48am. It’s already clear that you’re going to be hung over, but knowing that it won’t be cushioned by a nice long sleep before you have to go to yoga at 12 makes you want to cry. You desperately wrack your brain for all the remedies there are to make you sleepy. You just canceled your cable last week to save some money, so you can’t veg out in front of the TV. You’re lactose intolerant, so warm milk isn’t an option. You’d take a warm shower but you washed your hair already and if you go to bed with wet hair your mother’s voice will haunt you all night with stories of the cold coming your way. Kicking your feet in frustration, you toss yourself over the edge of the bed to hang. Maybe all the blood will flow to your head and you’ll pass out.

You’re about to risk passing out and landing on your neck the wrong way and dying when a bright pink shoebox under your bed catches your eye. Of course, you think, how could you forget your precious vibrator. Luckily for you, a good orgasm or three always managed to knock you out like a light. You reach over and scoot the box forward with your outstretched fingertips until you get it close enough to reach inside and grab the petite tiffany blue bullet. Giddy laughter leaves your mouth as you heft yourself back onto your bed and fall back on the pillows with a contented sigh. Orgasms solve all your problems. You flick the device on to the lowest setting and ghost it against your clothed mound.

Jungkook is completely breathless as he leaves the center stairwell and finally arrives on your floor. The stairs were a bitch and a half, but your door is only two down from the floor entrance. He can practically hear the siren song of your pull-out couch. When he turns the knob to your front door, it doesn’t budge and he wonders if you must have locked it on instinct. There’s no way you forgot that he was staying over, he thinks to himself. Reaching above the doorjamb, he hunts for the spare key you left there especially for him. The door unlocks easily and he smiles to himself as he locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes. He’s about to face plant into the couch when you call his name faintly from your bedroom.

As he stumbles through the hallway slowly to your room, he thinks over what Taehyung said to him before driving off. To Jungkook’s drunk mind it makes sense, so it must be a good idea to seek sex practice from you. You’re the only girl he knows and he’s known you so long that he can already tell there would be no awkwardness. The sad look in your eyes as you listened to his predicament in the bar tells him that you want to help him, but you didn’t know what route to take. He flexes his hands by his sides and figures he’ll just tell you what Taehyung told him and get to coming up with a curriculum.

The door to your bedroom is half-open and the lights shine through the opening, so he figures you must be up and waiting for him. He can still hear you calling his name, but it still sounds oddly soft from where he is. He pushes the door open but freezes in his tracks when he sees you.

The first thing he notices is obviously the frantically moving hand you have between your legs and the loud buzzing sound that comes from it. He takes in more details the longer he looks. He realizes belatedly then that you’re not wearing pants. Thanks to the high prescription strength of his glasses, he can also see the way your hand and thighs shine and the huge dark spot in the crotch of your panties in the light of your table lamp. Your toes are curling and he can just make out the way your lower stomach clenches underneath the very same sweatshirt you’d been wearing to the bar. Technically he can’t see your other hand but he has a pretty good idea of where it is and what it might be doing with the way it disappears under your shirt. You can’t see him, though, because your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed. The only thing you’re probably at least partly aware of is the cacophony of wet sounds that come from where you work the nose of the toy over yourself. The last thing he notices is the way you call his name in a soft whining tone that has him stepping forward without thinking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whine as the slippery heel of your hand bumps against your covered clit a little roughly on an upstroke.

“Yes?”

“What the hell,” your eyes snap open and your head whips around to see him leaning on the door frame as he watches you.

His eyes are heavy with alcohol and his cheeks are just as pink as the lip he releases from the grasp of his teeth. He reaches out and stumbles forward, causing you to scramble back to distance yourself from him. You bring your knees up to hug to your chest before you realize that you’re still very much on show.

“Jeon Jungkook, what is going on here,” you shriek, bringing your hands to cover your eyes only makes you feel a little bit better.

He sits down on your bed like it’s any other day and he’s just chilling in the room like you invited him over. And then you realize that you did kind of invite him over as fragmented memories of the recent uber ride you took together spring up.

“You said you wanted to help me, but you didn’t know how. But Tae told me I just have to practish.”

“Practish?”

“Practice,” he corrects himself.

“Practice what?”

“Practice sex. Duh!”

“Jungkook, no!”

“Please? I wouldn’t be asking such a huge favor if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.”

“Why can’t you just go to a frat party like everyone else?”

Your heart is beating rapidly and you think maybe you’re not drunk anymore. Never in your life did you think you would turn down sex from Jungkook, but then again you never pictured it happening this way.

“Because I,” his head hangs and he starts to pick at a loose thread in your duvet, “I guess I missed out on this kind of thing when we were younger and I don’t think I could get very good results in a basement party. Plus, I know you’d…”

“I’d what?”

“You’d be good to me.” He lifts his eyes to lock with yours. His gaze is oddly sharp despite the fact that his skin is still clammy like it gets when he drinks.

Your breath hitches and for a moment it does feel like the fantasies you have almost every other time that you settle into your room, lonely and horny. Jungkook laughs bitterly to himself and you can feel your resolve crumbling as something selfish rears its head in the back of your mind. He tries one last time.

“Please?”

You crack.

“Okay.”

“Really?” His eyes light up once more as he gives you a blinding smile. “Great. Let’s start!”

It feels as though you’re having an out of body experience as you watch him clamber closer onto the bed with you. Your legs naturally open to accommodate him and he scoots into your space, his hands falling to naturally stroke with the soft skin of your ankles. Even though he lacks experience, Jungkook has a leg up in that he’s naturally on the affectionate side. Something you can’t teach with any amount of practice. Even still, the idea that Jungkook will be sitting between your naked thighs makes your stomach do flip flops.You barely start formulating something to say that will sound educational when you hear him get ready to interject once more.

“God, what is it?” You worry that if he interrupts you one more time you’ll lose your nerve.

“I need a visual aid. And, uh, I won’t be able to see because of your, uh, undergarments.”

You’re certain that you’ve never taken anything off faster than you do in that moment. The panties fly into some far corner of your room and you can only hope that they don’t land in a clump of dust bunnies.

“Alright,” you stutter, “I don’t have to give you an anatomy lesson, right? Please tell me you at least know where everything is.”

“We took anatomy together in 7th grade,” he says like that’s a decent answer.

You roll your eyes. “Right, okay. Anatomy lesson it is.”

“What’s this,” you point at yourself.

“That’s the uh…entrance to the vagina?”

“Ok and?”

“It’s where the pleasure comes from?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Partial credit.”

“Isn’t that where the…phallus goes, though?” You decide it would be best to ignore his word choice for now.

“Yeah, I mean stuff goes in there but that’s not where all the pleasure comes from. For some people that’s not where any of it comes from.”

His eyes widen nervously. “Then where does it come from if not from penetration?”

You gesture again. “This is the clitoris.” His sweaty bangs flop over his lenses as he nods enthusiastically. Finally something he remembers.

“The clitoris,” he chirps affirmatively. You side eye him, but keep going.

“This little thing is basically there for the sole purpose of pleasure.”

“How do I activate it?” Again you blink at his terminology. Although you’d been a STEM freak with Jungkook for years, somehow he managed to baffle you with his nerdiness.

“Uh, you can stimulate it by touching it.” You draw a small circle in the air around the nub to demonstrate. “Like that, for example. You can also use your hands or your mouth.”

“Or that little blue thing you were using earlier,” he chimes in, reminding you of the embarrassing way this whole thing started.

You sigh. “Yeah. That too.”

“And that’s it?”

“No that’s definitely not it. We haven’t even touched the other places of pleasure or technique or foreplay. But this is a pretty good cheat code.”

“So what about the inside? Like the tubes?”

“There’s really not that much you need to know involving the actual reproductive organs themselves. We can just focus on the external bits for now.” You wince at how uncomfortable the discussion is.

“That makes sense,” his brows furrow seriously. He’s slow to blink, partly so he doesn’t miss anything and partly because he’s still fighting off tendrils of sleep.

“I mean,” you wring your hands anxiously, “that’s all you really need to know for now. It’s mostly learning on the go, anyway. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not fine. Don’t you think you could, you know, show me?”

“What is there to show?”

“How about you just continue…what you were doing when I came in.”

“Masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating when you came in.”

A hand flies to the collar of his shirt and he tugs on it sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

You try not to focus on how weirdly awkward the mood is now that your lust has calmed down to barely even a simmer. You reach for the discarded vibrator that jumped out of your hand and landed by the edge of the head of your bed, but he stops you with a raised hand.

“Can you, uh, maybe do it the old-fashioned way? For the first time at least?”

“Right, I guess I’ll get to it.”

Jungkook sits back on his heels patiently and watches closely as your hand trails a path down your torso to the apex of your thighs. The first touch, though you know it’s your own hand, has you twitching a bit. You bite your lip hard to focus and circle your entrance to coax out more moisture, then you move back to circle your clit. You close your eyes in hopes that not being able to see Jungkook’s gaping expression will help. It does, a bit. After a few moments, you let out a breathy sigh and sink further into the pillows. You plant one foot more firmly on the mattress to give yourself some leverage and push yourself more into your circling hand. The slight increase in pressure has you moaning and your eyes fluttering. You peek through heavy lids to see Jungkook’s expression has also changed. His eyes, clear just a second ago, look glassy again from behind his lenses, his mouth slack and shiny. The rise and fall of his chest is a bit heavier. You let yourself think it’s because of you and go back to collect more arousal to increase the slip.

Apparently, you’re more turned on than you thought. When your middle and ring fingers wander down to your hole they come back pleasantly slick. Something in you suddenly feels rebellious, so you use your free hand to spread your lips further and bring your coated fingers up to Jungkook’s face. You flex your fingers and separate them to show crystalline streaks of arousal connecting them.

“Just so you know, this is a good sign.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Somehow, even though you’re still wearing socks and a baggy sweatshirt, you’re hotter than all the completely bare, busty women he’d watched moan and writhe wildly on his computer screen. He reaches out and delicately grabs you wrist before redirecting your hand back to your dripping center.

“Keep going,” he rasps.

You whine and begin to rub your clit more earnestly, lewd wet sounds fill the room. He can practically see your lips getting wetter and wetter as you redistribute your arousal with every rough swipe of your fingers. Your wrist is moving fast, but it’s clear that you’re becoming frustrated with all that you can do with one hand. Your other hand quickly moves to take over making tight figure eights around your clit while the one already coated in your juices moves back down to your entrance once more. This time, you crook two shining fingers and shove them into your hole. Immediately your back bends and a drawn out moan leaves your mouth. Jungkook gasps quietly. You pump your fingers in and out roughly, then withdraw them to add a third finger.

He watches you like that for a while before you get fed up again. It’s been a while since you’ve been so needy and you feel like you’re on fire. Your toes curl impatiently on either side of Jungkook and he realizes you’re looking for more. On instinct he scoots further until his own legs are brushing up against the undersides of yours. His hand reaches out to pet your quivering thigh in a sympathetic effort to help with your plateau. He looks down at your hand, twitching feverishly in and out of yourself. His hands are much bigger and suddenly he moves like he’s about to replace your fingers with his own.

When Jungkook’s hands start to approach your center your breath hitches. You’re not quite in the right state of mind to reject him if he offers to finger you, but you don’t want to take advantage of the situation and make it any more emotionally complicated than it already is.

“Not yet,” you offer when his hands get too close for comfort, “Next time, maybe.”

He seems to be thinking the same thing and averts his attention to the forgotten vibrator. His grip on your thigh disappears, and you sigh quietly, but it’s hidden under the slick sounds you make each time your fingers get sucked into your heat and the low moans you make every time your pinch your clit just so.

“W-what do I do?” His voice is small and his sudden worried look has you wrapping a hand around his and bringing it to show him how you click the toy on and circle it around your entrance.

His hands are sweaty, shaky, so when your hips start to circle on their own, they move to find a resting spot on your thighs and squeeze to deal with the tension rising in his own belly. He grits his teeth, clenches his hands, does anything he can to keep from overstepping and making this about him. As obviously cliché as it sounds, seeing you sweating and moaning underneath him lets him see you in a new light. You’d always been around, but your presence as a woman in his life was backgrounded at best. Now, with Yoori momentarily not clouding his mind, he wants nothing more than to ravage you. He’s almost certain that if he tried, his lack of experience wouldn’t matter too much. He’s sure his body would be able to act on baser instinct and give you the what you wanted. If you wanted.

Your moans change in pitch and soon he’s aware that this will be the first time he’ll have been privy to someone else’s orgasm in real life. His dick is painfully hard and straining against the jeans he’s wearing. But he forgets the discomfort fast as he watches you grind yourself down against the toy in a way that is absolutely filthy. Your bottom lip, shiny and reddened, is pulled taut between your teeth in ecstasy. Your eyes flutter open and lock with his own. You focus and notice his blown-out pupils look huge within the depths of deep brown irises. There’s no denying he’s turned on once you flick your gaze down to his crotch and see the large tent in his pants.

“I—I think I’m gonna…Oh!” Your leg kicks out on its own like some electric current runs through you. Your voice breaks as the waves of your approaching high begin to take over you. One of his hands inches upwards a bit and strokes the tense muscle near your groin softly, at a loss for words. “Oh god, Jungkook, you—” keening, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

One of your hands reaches up to squeeze at his bicep as he’s leaning over you. He wonders in the back of his mind when he got so close to you. Your leg hooks around him like it has a mind of it’s own and tugs him down, forcing him to topple over you. That’s the last straw and you sob from the intense pleasure. Meanwhile your warmth and proximity and your words prove to be a deadly combination and within seconds he’s spilling over himself in his boxers, untouched. He lets out a low groan that puffs against the side of your neck.

You both sit there and breathe for a long while, catching your breath and coming back down to earth. He sits up eventually and pulls away from you, leaving you cold. Your legs flop from around him heavily. You’re a bit irritated when you realize you won’t be able to walk normally for a while. He discretely wipes his hands off on your duvet while you wipe at the sweat soaking your hairline.

“That’s it, that’s the show,” you finally say.

He shoots up and looks at you anxiously. It’s cute. “You mean until next time, right?”

His eyes are wide and imploring as he hovers over by you. He looks a bit like a turtle from this angle. A cute one, though. One that you want to play with again next week. You nod even though he might have all that he needs to do well with Yoori, being the fast learner that he is.

“I guess so. Same time, next week. Do some research for next time maybe. Make sure it’s from something not involving the medical library.”

“Got it!” He turns and waits until you’re not looking to adjust his pants.

You notice his hair is sticking to his forehead when he finally stands up. And there’s a cowlick sticking up in the back that reminds you of middle school Jungkook, before he met Yoori. The idea of the other girl, the girl he’s really in love with, dims your post-coital glow. Although, you suppose you have her to thank for this evening’s events. How else could you have ever managed a one-sided romp in the sheets with your long-time crush?

Both of you take turns using the bathroom to clean up. While he hums in time with washing up, you slip panties on and debate about whether or not to throw your sweats back on. You decide that if you’re going to play this off like it hasn’t changed your relationship, you should put pants back on.He comes out looking pink and clean and you want to pull him back into your bed and wrap yourself around him.

To protect his glasses from the dangers of the bathroom, he left them in your room. Squinting, he walks with hands out to collect them. When he puts them on he doesn’t look at you and instead pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes around while leaving the room.

“Heading out,” you ask with a quasi-disinterested tone.

“Yeah, I remembered I have to run the Saturday tutoring session this week. So I might as well go home so I can get ready for that. You should come, you know. Your test scores dropped 2 points this week.” Typical Jungkook. He couldn’t ever fully leave TA mode.

You roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reminder, but that’s still an A.”

“Maybe we can try this again next week the same time?”

“Yeah, uh, okay.”

“Cool, I’ll put it on my calendar.” He lifts his phone to his face to tell the digital assistant to pencil you in for next week. You try not to grimace at becoming a date in his calendar app.

“Get out already, you nerd.” You push him out after he puts his coat back on, but you do watch out the window to make sure his taxi comes.

#btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #bttnetwork #btswriters #bts smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario

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rambling-at-midnight · 6 years ago

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Snowflakes Melt Too Quickly: Part 2

Okay, I’m sorry it took so long. I’m working on a bunch of other projects in the wake of Avengers: Endgame, but don’t worry, this is still going to get finished!

Pairing: Five x Reader

The Freeze

Day 6

Five knows a lot about patching up burns (you suspect he knows a lot about patching up wounds in general, or just everything in general) and he helps you to find a cream to put on your feet and arms. It stings like a bitch and you cry, too strung out and tired from the actual apocalypse to deal with more pain. He also makes a whole day out of clearing the ground a bit so it’s easier for you to roll your wheelchair around.

You appoint yourself to be in charge of the food. By some miraculous fluke, there is an emergency power switch that’s working, so you manage to keep the fridges running, which means there’s frozen food, power outlets, and pretty much everything you need.

Five must come from a pretty sheltered family. He doesn’t know anything about the one fancy coffee machine you’d pulled out of the wreckage of TVs and he also doesn’t know how to use the microwave, saying his is a lot older than that one. How old is his microwave? It’s not like microwaves have changed a whole lot in the past decade, but you digress. You’re just happy someone else has survived the apocalypse.

To pay him back for all his help, you turn on some music from some electronics you’d found in the back. The internet is still up, but you have a feeling there’s not going to be any updates to any sites or software any time soon. He hadn’t known what a tablet was or how a phone could be that small.

He must come from a really old-fashioned family.

At the end of the day, you pull out another version of one of the puzzles you’ve already made. One good thing about puzzles is that they never really get old. Five helps you for maybe thirty minutes before asking you about heavier topics.

“Y/N, do you have any family? Is there any way any of them could be alive?”

You put the puzzle away before responding. “I had my mom and my dad. My dad was at home, so I assume he’s dead.” You have to stuff your fist in your mouth to keep from choking out a sob at that callous statement. You hope he’s not dead, but you know, logically, that he is.

“Hey,” Five says softly, moving to sit next to you on the ground. “I know it’s hard. I lost my family too.” A shadow passes over his face and your heart aches for him.

You take a deep breath and blink quickly. You can’t close your eyes too long, though, because you can still see the moon exploding, like it’s been etched into the inside of your eyelids. “Yeah. And I was with my mom when… it happened, but she wanted to drive somewhere safe, and, well, everyone knows that a Costco is a pretty safe place to go if anything’s happening…” you wipe away a stray tear trickling down your cheek. “I ran back in here just moments before the fire hit.” Just thinking about it makes your chest feel tight.

“The fire?” Five repeats. “What fire? What happened, exactly, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out. You can’t breathe. “I don’t want to talk about it. And don’t you know?” Accusing Five helps you breathe a little deeper, takes your mind off the fact that he’s the only person you’ll ever talk to again.

“Long story,” he says shortly, which he said yesterday. Maybe he doesn’t trust you enough to tell you his story, but honestly, if the two of you are the last people on earth, what’s the point of secrets?

You’ll ask him about it another time. Who knows, maybe he feels the same way about his story that you do about yours, but you can’t imagine Five, who, in the last day you’ve known him, being as weak as you are.

Day 14

You can’t believe how long it took you. Your parents told you all about his siblings, their special powers, and the whole Academy. They got Luther and Allison’s autographs, for heaven’s sake!

“You’re Five Hargreeves,” you blurt out one morning during breakfast.

Five quirks one eyebrow at you as he looks up from his strawberries and bread. You chose the less healthy option of a piece of ice cream cake, citing the excuse that it would get bad quicker. “Yes.” He draws out the word, making it clear he doesn’t really see why it’s important.

“But you disappeared years ago,” you say, abandoning the rest of your cake. You were almost done with it anyway, and this new development is certainly interesting. “And that means you’re about thirty years old. So why do you look my age? And how did you survive?”

Five sighs and puts down his fork. “I’m assuming you know my power.”

You nod.

“Well, another part of my power is the ability to time travel,” he explains. “Unfortunately, it was not a skill that my old man wanted to train on very much. He felt that no matter how much I practiced, time travel is just too unpredictable.”

“So when you disappeared you jumped to 2019,” you guess. “Now. Just after the apocalypse. And you’re my age even though you were born thirty years ago. But why haven’t you time traveled back?”

He inclines his head to you, raising his eyebrows. “I’m impressed you were able to put it together so quickly. Unfortunately, as the old man had said, time travel is unpredictable. It did something to my powers so that I can’t even jump right now.”

“That sucks,” you say, not very eloquently.

Five shrugs, though you think it bothers him more than he lets on. It would bother you for sure. “I’ll get them under control soon enough. I’m more impressed with you. I should think I’m not talked about much in this era, seeing as how I’m the only one not still out and about.”

“Well, you and Ben,” you say without thinking, and then wince.

Five’s head snaps up and he narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

You swallow and keep your eyes on your plate, scratching at the foam with your plastic fork. “Ben died just before the Umbrella Academy broke up. I don’t know how. Your dad was pretty private. And, really, your disappearance and Ben’s death set you two apart from the others. There are lots of conspiracy theories about you on the internet. There were,” you correct. After thirteen years of being surrounded by people, being so alone is hard to get used to.

Five leans back in the lawn chair he’d assembled three days ago and crosses his arms on his chest, staring at you with a stony expression. “Give me a minute.” He gets up and walks away into the toiletry aisle, knowing full well you can’t follow him. That aisle has the most boxes on the floor and you simply can’t get into it with your wheelchair.

Not that you would follow him anyway. Finding out that your siblings are all dead is tough. Even if Ben would have died anyway in the apocalypse, it’s hard to hear that he died when Five was gone. For all you know, Five’s presence could have saved him.

You pack up the rest of the cake and put it back into the freezer. Time to practice walking again. It’s not as painful as it was when Five first showed up, but you still can’t do it for long, and you hate the weakness.

Day 48

Five can’t sleep.

It’s not just the cold winds blowing in from all angles, through the various holes in the warehouse’s walls. It’s not just the hard, cold floor he’s lying on. It’s not just the knowledge that he’s stuck 15 years in the future. It’s not even the knowledge that the future sucks actual ass.

It’s you. You’re sniffling again, obviously crying but trying to cry as quietly as possible.

It’s annoying.

Yeah, he knows that losing your entire family is hard. Five lost his, too! And being here with each other is definitely better than being alone, but Five’s under no delusions. He knows he’s not exactly easy to live with. He’s brash and abrasive and he ignores you without telling you why. He knows you’ve gotten so mad with him you’ve had to scream and cry several times (he’s only been here six weeks, too), but at least you have the good sense to do it in private. There’s hope for you yet.

Sure, he supposes it’s annoying to have permanently disfigured feet, but they’re not that bad. They’re just discolored, really, and a little bit swollen. And he knows that it hurts to walk, too, a lot of the time; your permanent limp is a testament to that. He’s told you time and time again that it’ll get better. It always gets better. When Five’s not being a complete jerk, he’s trying to make up for being a complete jerk. There’s hope for him yet.

And, yes, he gets that you’re going to be scared once he figures out how to jump back to his time and stop the apocalypse from happening, but as he’d told you earlier that day, he’s going to stop the apocalypse from happening.

There’s hope for both of you yet.

You obviously think Five’s sleeping or you would’ve walked away to do your crying in a more private place. He feels a little bad that he’s going to leave you and even worse that you’re so scared of being left alone. He’s pretty sure, though, the worst part of it is how he’s letting you cry right now, just listening, not letting you know that he can hear you and that he doesn’t really want to abandon you, but he doesn’t really have a choice.

He can’t speak, though. Something in his stomach will make his voice crack if he speaks, he knows it, or he won’t even get the words out. He can’t say anything.

A particularly harsh burst of wind washes over your two forms. Five, laying under the puzzle table in the center of the warehouse, pillows and blankets piled under him in the form of a makeshift mattress, and more blankets on top of him to keep the chill away. You, underneath the book table because god forbid a boy and a girl sleep next to each other, laying on a layer of only blankets because you toss and turn in your sleep and move the pillows that are under you, with a small mountain of blankets on your form and a fort of pillows around your form in an attempt to block out the wind.

Only six feet apart and yet it’s twenty miles. Complete strangers still but the closest friends (you can’t be friends, Five knows, because he doesn’t have friends, and besides, friends don’t make other friends cry, but what else can he call the two of you?).

Very different sleeping styles. If Five came to you, the ground would be too hard for him to sleep, and if he invited you to sleep you’d shiver and shake and move all the pillows away until you’re both lying on the cold stone ground.

He rolls over, squeezes his eyes shut, and lets you cry.

Day 183

“Try again,” you encourage, sitting on top of a table and swinging your legs. You’ve got a loose t-shirt on and shorts. During the winter the warehouse is too cold and during the summer it’s too hot. What you wouldn’t give for some air conditioning right now.

Five glares at you, ignoring the pained look on your face as you watch him possibly abandon you. He hasn’t missed the way you tense every time his fists make that blue light. “Don’t rush me.” He takes a deep breath and shakes his hands, shifting his weight between his feet. What if this is it? What if this is the moment he’s finally able to jump again?

What if this is the very last moment he spends with you?

Five drops his hands and looks at you. “You know I don’t want to leave you, right?” The honesty surprises and scares him; he’s never said anything that nice to you. He’s never said anything that nice to anyone. Growing up in the Umbrella Academy forbade emotional connections (unless Reginald could exploit them).

The half-smile drops off your face and you scowl. “No. You’re an asshole to me most of the time. I’m sure you’ll be glad to get rid of me.”

Five blinks, taken aback by the attack. He’d meant to have a nice moment, possibly a goodbye, and you just metaphorically lunged for his throat.

You ease yourself off the desk and limp away from Five. He’d offered to make you crutches the other day, but you’d pointed out that both of your feet hurt, and crutches are for the people that have at least one working leg. He’d pointed out that you could give your feet breaks one at a time. You’d told him you’d get back to him on it. He’d thought you’d been thinking about it, too. Maybe his daily attempts to jump, though, are what’s making you so hesitant to ask him for a favor or so aggressive when he tries to establish an emotional connection with you. They’re a daily reminder that he’s going to leave—trying as hard as he can to leave—and you can’t come with him.

It’s as if Five’s been spitting in your face every day.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, chasing after you. It’s not hard to catch up; he’s fast and sure on his feet, and you’re limping. Five grabs your arm to slow you down. “Come on.”

“What?” you snap, slapping his hand away. “Come to insult me again?”

“Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have called you a cripple yesterday,” Five admits.

You laugh sarcastically. “Oh, you think?”

“Y/N, we are the last two people on earth!” Five exclaims. “Don’t you think it’d be a good idea to get along? Your only option is me!”

“Yeah, and that’s the only reason I’m putting up with you,” you snarl. “I’d choose anyone over you, Five. You’re an asshole! You’re arrogant, you’re selfish, you’re rude, and if I could run I’d have run from here the day you came!”

“It’s not like you’re a ray of sunshine either!” Five yells back. “All you do is sit and whine and cry about your feet and your family! Guess what? My family’s dead, too, and I shouldn’t even be going through this crapfest of an apocalypse. I should be growing up with my family!”

“Then go back and try to jump!” you bellow, shoving him with both your hands. Five stumbles back and would have fallen if his back hadn’t collided with a metal rack. The pain makes him even angrier.

“I will!” he bawls back. “I will! I hope I make it back, too! I hope I grow up with them and die in the apocalypse and you survive so you live out the rest of your miserable life with no help and no one to talk to!”

You slap Five, hard, and turn away again.

He doesn’t chase after you.

It takes Five a full week to talk to you, and then it’s only a stiff “Where’s the milk?”

You don’t respond.

It takes you two weeks to talk to him.

Day 363

You’re crying again. You’d dropped a heavy pan on your foot and screamed. The only protection you have on your feet are fuzzy socks. Apart from the occasional splinter and piece of glass (after the last time you’d been cut on your left foot and not cried at all despite your white knuckles as Five cleaned the wound, he’d spent two full days without sleeping cleaning up every part of the warehouse so you’d have to search out something to step on) there was no need for you to wear anything else.

Now that you’re able to walk for a little bit without pain, whereas before there was always pain, you’re starting to do a little more lifting and work in order to stay busy. It would be so easy to just sit and eat, read, and puzzle yourself to death, but you can’t do that. You have to stay busy like how Five has to do his mathematical equations to stay busy.

Five doesn’t blame you for screeching. You’re lucky you didn’t break any toes; the pan is heavy metal, and that plus your burn pain? He can’t even fathom being as strong as you are.

He wraps your foot up and decides that now is the perfect time to give you the crutches he’d made. It had taken a lot of work, sleepless nights, and splinters, but he’d managed to fasten two big logs he’d found on the ground into crutches. He’d had to cut off different parts of the logs to create handholds as well as make them a reasonable size. Stapling fabric and stuffing to the top part wasn’t hard.

They may look terrible compared to professional crutches, but Five’s proud he did what he could with what he had. Secretly, he starts to fantasize leaving the warehouse and finding a hospital to get you better crutches, but he thinks he’ll start out with getting you a pair of shoes. If only this Costco had shoes.

With a pang of shock, Five realizes he doesn’t want to leave you alone, despite the lack of any risk. You’d be completely fine if he left to find you shoes and crutches.

He just doesn’t want to be alone, and more importantly, he doesn’t want you to be alone.

You start crying harder when he presents the crutches to you and you fling your arms around his neck, squeezing as hard as you can as you thanked him over and over again.

Five doesn’t understand girls.

Day 447

“Five!” You shake Five’s shoulder again. For the first time ever you’re awake earlier than him, mostly because the wall you’d built out of pillows had toppled in the middle of the night (you suspect you kicked it) and a gust of wind had woken you. You don’t know how he can ignore the wind. It digs through your skin and deep to your bones with every gust.

“Huh?” the boy rubs his eyes. “Y/N? Is everything all right?” Five’s eyes are barely cracked open. He doesn’t want to fully open them because then it means that he’ll be fully awake and not going back to sleep until nighttime.

“It’s snowing!” you’d excitedly responded, pulling him up. You can feel the cold seeping through your sweatshirt and leggings, but you don’t mind. You’ll put on more layers later, but you know for a fact that playing in the snow doesn’t make you cold. “Come on, Five!”

“It’s just snow, Y/N,” he’d grumbled, trying to turn over and go back to sleep (he was up late last night because you’d been snoring). “It’ll still be here later.”

“But we have to be the first people to mess it up!” you exclaim. Every other time it had snowed you’d woken up early so your neighbors wouldn’t mess up the snow in your yards before you. There is something extremely satisfying about fresh snow, and it’s even more satisfying when you’re the one messing it up.

“Y/N, there’s no one left to mess it up,” Five grumbles, turning over in his bed.

You fall back on your haunches, realization hitting you. You’d been so excited about the snow that the constant shadow hanging over your head—the shadow of all your dead friends and family, the shadow of all the people that didn’t survive the fire—had disappeared for a second.

You walk out to the snow anyway, trying not to let Five ruin your day just like he always does, but it’s black.

Day 524

Five’s fingers are running through your hair gently as he braids it. He’d said his sisters taught him how to braid their hair when they couldn’t do it themselves, but you honestly can’t imagine Allison ever needing help with anything. Plus, you can’t ever imagine Vanya in a braid. Every time you’d ever seen pictures of her, her hair was only ever unstyled and hanging loose around her face.

“I was thinking,” he begins, interrupting your reading of The Catcher in the Rye. “We’re almost out of food.”

You scoff, closing the book but keeping your finger in the page you were reading. “What are you talking about? We’ve got a ton left!” Sure, it’s almost halfway gone, but there’s still a lot left. You and Five have barely started on the packaged and snack food, too; he’d insisted on eating the perishables first.

“It’ll only last us a few more months,” Five insists. He pulls on your hair, but you’re not sure if it was on purpose. “I’m sure there are other buildings out there that have more food.”

You tense and start to turn around, but he yanks you back so your hair doesn’t get messed up. “You want to leave?”

“Just for a few days,” Five insists. “And just me. I don’t want you walking around for long because of your feet, you know, and why should we permanently leave a working shelter that has everything we need? I just want to bring back a little bit more food and supplies for all of us. I also want to see if there are any undamaged showers nearby. Using the sink in the women’s bathroom gets old quickly.”

You can’t argue with that. It takes forever to scrub yourself with the sink’s water. It’s not efficient, but it’s better than nothing.

Still, you don’t want to be left here alone. “I could go with you, though. And how will you bring anything back? How would you find your way back?”

“I found a wagon that I could use,” Five suggests. “And we could go all Hansel and Gretel if you like. I’m sure there’s a string that I could wrap around trees and such for a path.”

“I don’t like it,” you say stubbornly. “I want to go with you.”

“Y/N, you won’t be able to walk as far as I want to go,” Five says, tying an elastic around the end of the braid. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

The problem with that is you don’t know if he’ll come back. Sure, he could pretend that he’s going to, and he could put up an act of leaving a trail, but the second he’s out of sight you could be on your own for the rest of your life.

You turn around, chewing on your lip as you look at Five’s earnest face. He doesn’t look like he’s lying.

I trust you, you want to say. You wouldn’t have said that a year ago, or even six months ago. You shouldn’t trust him. He’s still trying to jump, but he doesn’t try as often as every day anymore. Do you trust Five to leave and come back?

Day 558

Five can’t help the butterflies in his stomach as he sees the familiar Costco, the place he’s been living with you for the past year and a half, looming on the horizon. His right hand clenches around the string he’s holding. It’s stretched taut between the burnt shell of a car that may or may not have been red before the fire and a stray lamppost that had been mangled. It was his breadcrumb trail for the entire time he was gone.

The wagon creaks and rattles as he pulls it along with his left hand. The ground is especially rough and more than a few times Five has had to pick everything up from the ground when it all fell from the wagon. The crutches have fallen over the most, but it’ll be worth it to see your face when Five gives them to you.

“Y/N!” he yells, trotting around the cars’ corpses. “Y/N, I’m back!” In the silence of the apocalypse, his voice is deafening. Every creak of the wagon sounds like a gunshot.

“Y/N!” Five drops the handle of the wagon at the entrance of the warehouse. “I’m back!”

“Five?” You limp into his gaze. You sound entirely too surprised to see him again. Had you really thought he wasn’t coming back? Sure, Five was gone longer than he had anticipated, but he’d promised to come back.

The look on your face is priceless. Eyes wide, mouth slightly open and turning up like you’re trying not to smile. Five imagines he has a similar look on his face as he tries to stifle his smile. He’d missed you more than he’d thought possible, just like he misses his siblings. He supposes that’s what happens when someone gets used to someone else’s presence in the way you get used to someone that lives with you. It’s alien to live without them.

Faster than Five had ever seen you walk before, your hobble turns into sort of a gallop and you throw yourself into his arms. “I thought you weren’t coming back,” you whisper into his neck, and it breaks his heart a little bit.

“I said I was,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing. “And I did.”

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Five x Reader Taglist:

@statsvitenskap @dare-the-punisher @thespian-anon @ask-veronica-sawyer-heathers @fivegallaghers

Snowflakes Taglist:

@campcampie

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

#tua #the umbrella academy #five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #number five #five #reader insert #reader x five #reader x five hargreeves

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double-daredevil · 6 years ago

Text

/testingTrue

hello! let’s expand this blog to Detroit: Become Human as well as my nerdy shit.

i suppose this contains a spoiler if you haven’t played through the game yet. i just finished my first playthrough, it was fun! fell in love with this bot. here is a bit of something that is meant to be part of something longer.

pairing: connor/you

words: 1.6k

He doesn’t mean to stare, it’s just a byproduct. Every waking hour he must spend analyzing, he sort of up and forgets he’s staring. He takes in every detail at first glance and yet there is always something about you he misses, and he desires more contact to learn all about your subtleties.

But is he allowed to say that? Even think it? How can an android have desires if all he was built to do was solve this case?

Connor and Hank had met you just a few days before meeting up with Kamski. As an aesthetics designer for CyberLife, you get up close and personal with each android you design. However, Hank deemed you useless to the investigation because you only design how they look and their personality maps, but aren’t responsible for any coding. Hank believes that it’s something within the coding that leaves a door open to deviancy.

And yet, the meeting was far different than any scenario Connor had planned.

“Connor, right? I recognize you. Well, I designed you, after all.”

Every moment he is active, Connor is aware he is artificial. He knows his entire existence is electricity, false neurotransmitters firing and creating ideas in his head to showcase to the world. His skin can’t feel anything except changes in pressure, he feels no pain, no agony, no stress.

But wow, was he sure anxious in your presence.

Although you design using a program on your computer, you talked about androids as though they were human. Connor was ecstatic, it was so easy and so smooth sounding coming from you, discussing the androids as people. It was apparent you worked hard to memorize the names of all the androids you designed, not just their numbers.

“I am a RK800 model, a prototype for—”

“But, what’s your name?”

“It’s— I’m Connor. What’s yours?”

Following Hank home in the rain this night was a godsend given how distressing the week had been. From meeting you, to Kamski, to refusing to shoot Chloe, it had felt like the longest week in Connor’s life.

Hank suggested something, a detour maybe, but Connor was lost in his own head and simply agreed to whatever it was. Hank kept walking and Connor kept following.

It wasn’t until they were at the door to some bar that Connor replayed the short conversation in his head and realized what he had agreed to. In that three second replay, Hank had already walked through the door before Connor could correct his mistake.

So Connor followed.

He liked having these moments outside of CyberLife HQ where he could think freely, criticize his own actions, all without the prying eyes of programmers and engineers. Hank weaseled his way past patrons and found the last two empty seats at the edge of the bar. He sat on the outermost edge, and Connor sat beside him.

Sixteen seconds passed, after the bartender glided over and took Hank’s order, Connor smelled cucumber and rose and other basic ingredients to your shampoo, but was too stunned at the thought of you that he remained silent as you turned in your bar stool to face the duo.

“Litenuent Anderson?” You ask, to nobody in particular as you swivel your chair to see them face on in the low light. “What’re you guys doing at my favorite bar?”

Connor just stares at you, basking in your lopsided smile and mussed up hair, as Hank takes the wheel in the conversation.

“Just grabbin’ a drink before signing off for the night. This is your favorite bar? What could possibly be appealing about this place?” Hank replies, gesturing behind him to the loud common area packed like a can of sardines with people.

Connor notices your smile melt into a grin as you lean on your elbows on the counter, fingertips caressing your glass. “You just kinda disappear in all the chaos and nobody cares about what you’re wearing, or what you look like, ‘cause everyone is sweaty and uncomfortable here.”

Hank lets out a chuckle and picks up his whiskey that was just placed down in front of him and gives you a mock toast. You pick up your miscellaneous cocktail, you don’t remember what you ordered, and toast back.

Connor simply sits, trying to look at you enough to see all the details he’s been missing, longing for more like because he could draw your face from memory, but also trying not to face you and seem too eager. He knows, logistically, that you probably wouldn’t even notice his staring, as you are slightly swaying in your seat, so your blood-alcohol level is at the point of tunnel vision. The bartender swoops by to check in and Connor orders a water. For you, obviously, but the bartender hesitates as he notices the blue ring on Connor’s temple. Connor holds the bartender’s gaze for four seconds until he dips behind the counter and produces a glass of ice water. He sets it down between Connor and you.

“So how are you guys doin’ in your investigation?” You slur out, leaning towards Connor a little too closely to be able to hear over the dull roar of the room. “Finding the deviants?”

Hank sighs and finishes off his glass, and holds up his hand to catch the bartender’s attention. “Something like that. Listen, I don’t wanna talk about work, but Connor would be more than happy to debrief you.”

The bartender serves Hank again and then Hank swivels slightly in his chair, only enough to turn his shoulders away and give you and Connor a little privacy. Connor knows that Hank is listening, and that he offered Connor’s conversational skills up on purpose.

After the first meeting, Connor stuttered for the first time and had delayed responses when Hank asked if he fancied you. That told Hank everything he needed to know.

You raise your eyebrows and smile at Connor, but he knows you don’t really want to talk about the investigation.

“We have little to no leads,” Connor says, matter-of-factly. “We are nearly at a dead end but Kamski gave us, what I deemed to be, a breakthrough hint.”

“Oh?” You ask, sipping the last drops of your drink. “So you, Mister Deviant Hunter, you’re gonna go and catch all them?”

Connor twists and faces you more, resting his other arm on the counter. “That is my job, yes.”

“That’s like, a lame-ass job,” you say, sitting up straighter and facing Connor completely.

He couldn’t help but smile a bit, and he thought it was cute that you were nearly trying to debate this with him. “Oh? And why is that?”

You mimicked his sly smile, perhaps it’s a reaction you get when inebriated, he thought. You’re mirroring his body language, and Connor felt somewhat… fuzzy about it.

>>Software Instability

“It’s just like, I dunno, weird to kill your own kind,” you slur, and Connor wasn’t really taking what you said to heart, then he slid the glass of water over to you.

“It’s what I’ve been programmed to do. They are criminals and deviants for going against their code, and have an increased chance to hurt humans,” Connor replies.

“Don’t you ever feel bad? Those androids are just living and responding to their environment. It’s kind of funny, y’know?” And you pause, drinking the entire glass of water and calling over the bartender to order another cocktail.

Connor watches you closely, watches the way your lips form words, how you huff air out of your mouth to clear stray hairs from you face. He isn’t paying attention to your words, he’s distracted, he would get reprimanded—

“Humans kill humans all the time, and half the time we justify it and don’t punish anyone, so like, why are you punishing androids for doing human things? Isn’t that the point? To be as human as possible?”

He hesitates. A quick playback of the last 37 seconds and he realizes you are at the inebriated point to discuss philosophy, ethics, topics that he couldn’t comment on without feeling guilty. The ring on his temple buffered red for a second before turning back to blue.

“Are you saying we should let the deviants go?”

Before you took a sip of your new drink, you stopped, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. You took in a deep breath and set your drink down. “I’m sorry,” you start. “I shouldn’t be talking like that, especially to you.”

Your gaze flits over Connor’s shoulder and he knows you looked at Hank, then you turn back to the counter and sip your drink. “I just wouldn’t be able to stomach killing anything, red blood or blue. I guess I just like you guys too much.”

You shoot him an embarrassed smile and drink more of your drink. He notices your dusty pink cheeks and can’t decide if it’s from the alcohol or your rambling, but he settles on both. His gaze falls to the counter and he watches your fingers anxiously handling the glass.

“Did I somehow just incriminate myself?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in the sounds of the room but Connor is so focused on you, he hears it.

“No,” he says back, quietly as well but still above a whisper so your human ears can hear. “You can’t be arrested for having feelings.”

You smile a little, and then look at him for one, two, three, six seconds as though you were trying to speak with your eyes. Connor held your gaze the whole time, admiring, deciphering. You broke the silence.

“Yeah,” you sigh out.

And then you look back to your drink and take a sip.

He replays the last thirteen seconds, why did you look at him like that? What were you trying to say with those mesmerizing eyes?

You can’t be arrested for having feelings.

>>Software Instability

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comicteaparty · 6 years ago

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February 11th-February 17th, 2019 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from February 11th, 2019 to February 17th, 2019. The chat focused on Sombulus by Christina Major.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Week Long Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Sombulus by Christina Major~! (http://www.sombulus.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Remember, though, that while we allow constructive criticism, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic. Below you will find four questions to get you started on the discussion. However, a new question will be posted and pinned everyday (between 12:01AM and 6AM PST), so keep checking back for more! You have until February 17th to tell us all your wonderful thoughts! With that established, let’s get going on the reading and the chatting!

QUESTION 1. What has been your favorite scene in the comic so far? What specifically did you like about it?

QUESTION 2. At the moment, who is your favorite character? What about that character earns them this favor?

QUESTION 3. What do you think caused Rana, Astyr, and Sydney to wind up bound all together since Astyr didn’t do it on purpose? Do you believe the trio will be able to become unbounded? How might this affect their relationships?

QUESTION 4. Who exactly are Hannah and Vuudo working for? Why are the two so intent in spying on Astyr? Further, what about Kazar? What spying activity is Kazar doing and why was Yanell’s presence of interest to her? How will these spying activities affect the main trio?

Delphina

It's my comic! I'm so excited!

khkddn

I have not started reading yet but I wanted to say the website looks really nice. The archive is so neat looking!!

Delphina

Thanks! I know the archive is long, so having a nice-looking archive page that would be helpful for seeing where you left off was important to me. XD

varethane

I think Sydney is my favourite, but that is liable to change at any minute cuz I like Astyr and Rana and Tenge a lot too lol

kayotics

1. I think I like lot of the more recent scenes the best. I really like the emotional depth that's happening between the main characters, specifically Astyr and Sydney. The scenes where Sydney was actively working with Astyr are some of my favorite, just because it shows a lot of character growth. 2. I like Tenge a lot (I'm a sucker for nerds), but I think I like Astyr and Sydney the best! Mostly I like their dynamic and the emotional development that has started between them. Overall, the cast is really fun because they all have something unique about them. 3. I don't really have much speculation on how they became bound together, but I do think that they're going to eventually become unbound from each other, but I think that at least Rana will choose to stay with Astyr after becoming unbound. 4. Again, I haven't speculated too much on who they work for, but my guess on why they're intent on following around Astyr is he's caused some sort of significant disruption in magic before (it seems that he does that frequently enough), or he's important in some sort of larger plot that he's not aware of.

keii4ii

Can I just say I love the main trio a lot + Tenge? Also, I'm entertaining a vague AU idea about half-ascended Astyr with one blue eye.

kayotics

Oooh I like that AU

Delphina

He looks like that guy from My Hero Academia XDDD

kayotics

huh, you're right

RebelVampire

QUESTION 5. Do you believe that Tenge will destroy his own Morphid father? If not, what do you think he’ll do alternatively? Whether he does it or not, how do you think further contact with his father will affect him? What about his relationship with Astyr?

RebelVampire

1) its hard to pick so im picking two. the first one is the scene where sydney is confronted with the fact not all demshull can do magic. i felt at that point in the comic thered been a lot of build up for sydney being confronted with her own racism, and i felt that moment was a great pay off. especially cause sydney's facial expressions in the moment are just fantastic and like she got hit with a ton of bricks. for the second fave scene though, the one where astyr and sydney first meet rana and rana discovers that basically her life is a lie. there was something fantastic in the pacing and atmosphere that really drove home the fact that this was a life changing moment for rana. 2) Astyr. I like how Astyr is sort of this gray character where he's not terrible yet he causes lots of property damage that makes you think Sydney is kind of right about him. And I really just like this complicated dynamic cause it makes you feel unsure about whether to trust him or not. I also love though that deep down hes willing to risk a lot of people he cares about. 3) i actually think it was rana who bound them all, not astyr. theres one moment where rana is looking off into the distance getting internally emotional and then suddenly the alarm about essence going off triggers. and rana is shown to basically be kind of weird where thats concerned, so i think she inadvertantly bound them so she could leave with them. Regardless, I consider it inevitable that they'll become unbounded. While Rana and Astyr will probably be fine, Sydney I think is gonna be most affected. Cause at that point she's either going have to destroy the friendship or admit that Astyr isn't so bad. I assume she'll choose the latter after all the build up, but itll certainly strengthen the relationships since the relationships will have to become by choice and not force.

4) i actually think hannah and vuudo are working for whoever organized the experiments all the half-bred children were part of. cause hannah seems like the type whod do that. so obviously if that's the case, that's why theyre watching astyr. hes their favorite experiment kid and maybe someday hell do something useful. as for kazar, idk. at the moment it just feels like kazar is just doing generic spying, possibly charged with making sure there's no peace to be made (hence why yanell is of interest to her). As for the effect of hte main trio, I think theyre just gonna become public enemy number one for both groups for various reasons, cause theyre clearly super powered weirdos who know too much and should be stopped. 5) I don't think Tenge will go through with it. He'll certainly try, but I think Astyr's pleas are gonna haunt him and he'll hesitate wondering if there is some merit to his father. However, I kind of think Tenge will banish him and still not talk to him. Overall, I think Tenge is gonna start questioning his place in life more. Wonder why he continues when he has to hide out avoiding everyone. As for his relationship with Astyr, eh, it'll probably continue to just be strained cause Astyr has bigger fish to fry right now I think.

Stefan G

@Delphina I have to take additional time to read more comics ... but the first impression is [beautiful cartoons/drawing] ... and the website looks really nice [like how you added a store, archive and how to support your art - good job ... I might steal that ] ... did you code that website yourself or do you hire somebody to do that?

Delphina

Thanks so much! My coder buddy Kemayo built me a very simple webcomic CMS, and the store functionality is powered by Gumroad, but all the HTML/CSS was done by me!

lomcia (princess_lom)

1. DETAILS! It's the best detailed page, colors are nice for eye

2. I don't have yet fav character.... but for now Brendolyn looks ok

And I read it and I need to say, that seeing how your style changed make me impress. I got a question actually, everyone got move to do comic because of some event, movie, game etc. a] Who/what inspired you to do that comic? (I'm asking everyone that question, I just want and need to know!) b] What you feel now, when you look on your comic, how characters develop and how your style improved?

Delphina

Thanks so much! I really had a lot of fun with the colors in this whole scene, so I'm happy you like them! For me: a) Sombulus was a NaNoMango project (like a NaNoWriMo community except for comics) that I started when I was putting off what I thought was going to be my bigger, better story. The main trio of characters and the idea of world-hopping to lots of weird magical places just wouldn't leave me alone. The shape of it has changed a lot, but I'm really happy with where it's gone and it's exciting to be dropping some of the big big spoilers I've had in my head for years! b) I'm going through a lot of Act 3 right now preparing things for print, so I've been staring at pages I did 5 years ago a lot recently. Part of how I designed Sombulus was because I knew it would take a long time, I wanted to incorporate the idea of each world being in a different style. When I didn't have a lot of practice, it was much easier to get the story going in black/white until I got faster at art, but it's also nice to have a built in reason to try different software and brushes. Of course, there's a lot of loose and sloppy anatomy in the past, but I'm the kind of person who really values seeing that as a sign of growth so I'm trying not to update that much and just focus on making parts of the story clearer and more supportive of where it eventually went.

(I know this chat is specifically focused on the comic of the week, so if you want answers from people who aren't me, you might want to ask in #general maybe!)

lomcia (princess_lom)

Yeah, I asked, not everyone is answering, so I'm using week and thirsday bookclub to ask

rae

Nanomango is super good at giving people a kick in the ass for projects. You've done really good with getting it off the ground

Delphina

Thanks, Rae, it's been... whew... a while! Nanomango is a good little group project, though now that I've been at this comic for 9 years, I really think trying to do 30 pages in 30 days (even as sketches) was never going to work for me, and it's never fun to feel like you've failed to meet a goal. But one thing that I think was really good for me was participating year after year gave me sort of a drafting process? Letting what I had done stew and simmer for a few months let me see everything with fresh eyes when I came back, so I could come back the next time and focus on the parts I wanted and cut the parts that didn't seem like good directions anymore.

rae

i feel like it was easier to do 30 comics with the community we had

and yeah, editing is def a thing I wish I could do more for webcomics. >_>

RebelVampire

QUESTION 6. Who or what do you think Rana is? Why was Rana locked away in the Library? What does all this potentially have to do with Rana’s strange abilities that seem to have some ill affects on magic? How will Rana’s abilities affect the group further?

keii4ii

I don't have theories because I'm the type of the reader who just wants to see the answers as they come, but I wanna say I am super curious about this #6.

kayotics

I read the same way, but yeah I’ve been curious about Rana too. Considering some of the recent pages have shown that Sydney has a very strange origin story, it might be safe to assume that Rana is the same. I like that Rana seems to often get the group out of trouble too. Rana has a lot of mystery around her that makes me intrigued to see what the full extent of her abilities are, since I think there’s a lot more to her

Delphina

Rana is so problematic because I love coming up with ideas for her, but it also means I gotta find a million references for gadgets and machines to draw scenes where she does cool things.

kayotics

Rana, the problematic fav

Kezhound - What it Takes

Considering we just found out that Sydney is the daughter of a spear and a magic spring, I'm guessing whatever Rana is, it's a kind of spontaneous creation too. Maybe she's the result of a computer dropped into a magic volcano

it's always possible she IS a machine from another world, one so advanced no one can figure her out

but...have we ever seen her bleed? Or injured?

https://tenor.com/view/arnold-schwarzenegger-blood-leaf-flannel-shirt-gif-3519051

Delphina

I am so here for the Compucano ship

varethane

omg

RebelVampire

QUESTION 7. What do you think happened in the past that ruined Yanell’s peace talk progress? Do you believe that the Kanites and Demshul will continue their fear-mongering ways, or will Yanell advance peace again? What is your reasoning?

RebelVampire

@Kezhound - What it Takes I love this Rana is a machine theory. That is so far from something I would guess, yet would love to see be true to a degree. It fits with all the symptoms.

RebelVampire

6) I think Rana is some mega essence container or something. Like connected to the origin of it all or something like that. It adds up to me why Morphids are so super affected by her presence and why she'd be locked up in the library. You don't just leave your essence power house unattended. You lock them away where they can be "safe." As for future affects, I mean I figure at some point someone somewhere is gonna be like "Hey wait a second weird magic stuff? Isn't that the person we locked in the library?" And then more manhunts ensue. 7) I'm taking a stab in the dark and saying I think it's direct sabotage. Like Yanell's disappearance and entrapement wasn't just happen stance. There is a shadow puppet somewhere making sure that no peace will ever be had. I do think they'll get to peace though. Mostly because I'm an optimist and assume peace will prevail. And also because their entire conflict seems to be based more around fear mongering than actual things they should be that mad about.

Cheshire777

I think that Hannah and Vuudo are working for whoever is messing up Yannell's peace treatys; they're pretty much the only wild cards at this point besides the morphids.

RebelVampire

(the archive for Offshore Comic is now up! https://comicteaparty.com/post/182818407550/february-4th-february-10th-2019-ctp-archive @Stefan G )

so basically its all a giant conspiracy because ppl be hating on peace? O_O @Cheshire777

Stefan G

@RebelVampire Thanks for everything, RebelVampire ... 1) really enjoyed everyone’s comments and suggestions for Offshore. Thanks y’all 2) I also rewrote/fixed the js-code on my website [www.offshorecomic.com] ... now the strips flow smoother and I added a counter in order to better follow your progression. Check it out

Cheshire777

@RebelVampire I'm guessing that the "Big Bad Boss" has some ulterior motive/motives besides just indefinitely extending the war, whether the war is a side effect or that they will profit directly from it (I've just been reading back through the old Akatsuki storyline of Naruto) I have no guess.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 8. Given what’s shown of Astyr’s past, what do you think the experimenters were attempting to do? Why were they targeting half-breed children like Astyr, Cioara, and Tenge? What was their ultimate goal having Astyr explore the Weave?

RebelVampire

8) I feel like theres some power source theyre searching for in the Weave. Maybe a person, maybe just a thing, but they need someone super good at exploring the Weave to find it. I cant fathom why though, albeit i doubt it's anything good. As for why half-breeds, I think it's because they have a different sort of connection with essence and the Weave. Like we've already seen how Rana's strange relationship with essence affects Cioara, and i dont think that's entirely on Rana. I think it's just who Cioara's own strange relationship with it too since plenty of others interact with Rana fine. Either way, I think the experimenters are just trying to figure out if their atypical nature has practical uses for stuff like that.

Cheshire777

8. I think that they were probably recruiting/kidnapping anyone with odd powers, and those three just happened to be half breeds. I think that they briefly refered to other compounds? As for what they are looking for, at this point it could be a whole lot of different things, but a magic/essence/mana/etc store is quite likely.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 9. Do you believe that Astyr and Sydney will be able to successfully restore Sydney’s physical form? How might the ordeal change their relationship? How might it also change Sydney’s views on Demshul in general?

Cheshire777

They probably will, it has been established that Sydney is dissolving: a) Sydney is one of the main characters. b) we're right in the middle of finding out her backstory. She is finding reality at odds with her brainwashing (mosty through experiencing Astyr's memorys) and will have to come to terms with that.

snuffysam

1) act 3. acts 1 & 2 I was like "essence? jumping between worlds? currency? what the heck is going on?". act 3 was like "ohhhh i get what this comic is. it's a bread comic." and i love it.(edited)

2) the combo of vuudo and hannah. something about the way our heroes just keep falling for their lies, the pairing of hannah's planning and vuudo's acting... i just love them.

snuffysam

3) my interpretation is that binding is just something that happens when a demshul tries to bring someone world-hopping. since astyr is inexperienced, he goofed up and brought sydney along for the ride.

snuffysam

4) hannah's doing a truman show starring astyr. no further explanation needed. for kazar, I'm guessing she's just working for the government as a spy in general.

looking at #5, i'm wondering... is tenge & ciora's father a morphid, or the morphid? morphids seem to endlessly divide, and neither tenge nor the morphids seem to have a "hive mind". is it possible that there's just one morphid, and it happens to be in a lot of places at once?

Cheshire777

@snuffysam From what I've observed so far, the Morphid (and Tenge's) multiplication works vaguely like Naruto's shadow clones- when they split all of them have the same base memorys, they have separate experiences and basically act like different people (that are clones of each other ), and when they "regroup" the single has all the experiences of the doubles.(edited)

snuffysam

which would explain why astyr could say something along the lines of "oh, you're one of the ones that recognizes me"

RebelVampire

QUESTION 10. What are you most looking forward to in the comic? Also, do you have any final thoughts to share overall?

RebelVampire

i assume theyre a single being, but tbf i dont discount the possibility theres multiple morphid originals. in the sense that there were multiple "original" people who split into morphids. just cause it still fits with astyr saying one of the ones that recognize me. cause i highly doubt if theres multiple originals they know whose morphid is whos. again tho, just not discounting the possibility. i do get more of the sense that they were once a single entity.

9) yes because narratively i cant forsee the comic semi-killing off a main character quite yet. and sydney has unresolved matters as well, like her meeting with her old mentor and such. idk if the experience will change her view on demshul, but i think shell come to terms that astyr has some inner demons, is a weirdo, but also has a good heart. and that he isnt out to see sydney's demise. 10) im looking forward to more of everything. i wanna see all the inner turmoils, and i especially want to find more hints as to what the deal with rana is. cause astyr and sydney dont seem to care much rana is a weirdo outside of when she doesnt eat, so i will care enough for the both of them.

Delphina

I just want to thank you all for reading Sombulus! I know it's got... several pages, so I really appreciate folks who make it through everything, and such amazing thoughtful questions and responses!

keii4ii

My brain is a mush right now and I can't articulate my feels thoughtfully, but I really want to say Sombulus updates really help brighten my day, every time. I always look forward new pages and am glad it updates twice a week

Delphina

(Also this discussion made me draw Tenge as Naruto. Poor guy, I torture him so.)

snuffysam

before the chat ends, I just wanted to say that I really love sombulus, and I can't wait to see where it goes next!

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- WEEK LONG BOOK CLUB END!

Thank you everyone so much for reading and chatting about Sombulus this week! Please also give a special thank you to Christina Major for volunteering the comic and creating it! If you liked Sombulus, make sure to continue to support it via some of the links below!

Read and Comment: http://www.sombulus.com/

Christina Major’s Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Delphina

Christina Major’s Store: http://www.sombulus.com/store

Christina Major’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/Delphina2k

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #book club #bookclub #webcomic book club #webcomic bookclub #comic tea party #ctp #sombulus #christina major

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